Twins
by LigerJager
Summary: Movie-verse. When Judy bought an ugly piece of jewelry, neither she or Ron had any idea how it would change Sam's future. Now, everything is coming full circle and he's is caught right in the middle...again.
1. Sacrifice

**Twins**

By

LigerJager

……

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 1: Sacrifice

* * *

_The long vorns of endless fighting took a toll on the once beautiful planet of Cybertron. Where building of great architecture once glowed with energy lay smoking ruins and ash. The twin factions of Autobots and Decepticons fought mercilessly over the one source of power, the cubed Allspark. _

_Amongst the various ranks of war were many shapes and specialties. Amongst these were the revered draconic seekers. They were few in number as series of betrayal and strategic strikes slowly destroyed them. They were feared most because of their size, juggernaut like abilities, and power. _

_Amongst the ranks were a pair of distinctive twins. Their names: RazorWind and BlazeBite. They were like night and day. RazorWind, the elder and seemingly indestructible black and silver plated Seeker and BlazeBite, the younger, sleeker, red and yellow brother. _

_They led the remnants of the Dragoon Unit, draconic seekers whom specialized in heavy strike assault tactics, when their mentor and leader, WildWing, was murdered by Megatron himself. They were barely out of Sparkling stage. _

_And they survived. _

_The Dragoons became legends amongst the Cybertronian ranks. They were the reason the Autobots were able to evacuate, scatter to the stars, and survive for so long. But it was all at a heavy cost. As with each confrontation their numbers dwindled until there were only two left. _

_There was no mercy for their kind. _

"You must allow us this duty Optimus." RazorWind's firm tenor cut through the air like a knife. The leader of the Autobots met his gaze with equal resolve. "The Cube cannot fall into Megatron's hands."

"You are needed here." The Autobot Leader wasn't backing down. He knew that these two were invaluable. To lose them would deal a heavy blow to their side. He just wished they weren't so set on their course. "We have scouts, Bumblebee for example."

"Yes, but they aren't equipped with the spark readers and energon pathfinders we have. It would be faster and more advantageous for us to locate the Allspark, send you a signal and guard it until your men can retrieve it." The implacable black mech countered. It was only logical that they take this course of action. After all, he highly doubted the other bots could hold off the Decepticon numbers or Megatron himself for the time they would need.

Optimus remained silent, his most trusted commanders watching the confrontations silently. They couldn't refute the logic either. Despite their size and obvious weight, the Dragoon dragon mechs were the most heavily equipped and some of the fastest seekers to ever grace Cybertron.

And none of the mechs had seen them fight to their fullest capabilities.

The Prime's attention drifted to the squirming form of RazorWind's eternally hyper twin. The slender mech had bright yellow and red splashes covering his armor. The younger Dragoon was fidgeting something awful, almost like a new sparkling taken for its first checkup.

It amused the stoic leader immensely.

But that was neither here nor there. The large mech returned his gaze to the present thorn in his side. The Dragoon captain made sense, unfortunately, but they also couldn't afford the risk from the loss of power the Seeker and his twin provided. Their presence alone, more than Optimus really, deterred a great many Decepticons.

So here they were at an impasse. To stay or go.

For the sake of the planet and their race.

The last Prime internally sighed. His race was scattered to the stars, his planet was all but dead. Megatron and his Decepticons had taken off in pursuit of the cube. An now two of their biggest assets, not to downplay the other's effectiveness and contributions but the Dragoons were legends for a reason, were set on searching for the Allspark.

He knew that they would also be able to hold Megatron down until he was able to get there.

"Very well."

The Seeker gave a curt nod and turned on his heel, his younger brother right behind him. It wasn't until they had reached the landing pad that he allowed a grim, but satisfied smirk to cross his faceplates. The look at his energetic twin, who had no qualms about displaying a large, victorious grin, told him that he was of much the same processors.

Getting Optimus to agree to anything was a monumental task, especially if it concerned those he relied on the most for battle and advice. Getting him to agree to depart with some his last and best units should have been nigh impossible.

But in the end he did.

Because it all came down to one simple fact: Who else was strong enough to ward off Megatron?

……

_::Earth::_

…….

The Dragon Mech barely made it to the cave before his stabilizers gave out and he collapsed harshly upon the rocky granite. The damage he had acquired had finally took its toll. He knew that there would be no real future, not for him at least.

Megatron could really give as good as he got. Hopefully his aft would remain frozen for all eternity.

Both he and BlazeBite had the misfortune of arriving at this planet the same moment Megatron had. When they recognized each other, the former Lord High Protector and the last two Dragoon Seekers unleashed their hate and did everything in their power to destroy the other. For the twins, it was revenge for the slow annihilation of their race and even starting the war. For Megatron, it was a chance to take out two serious threats and damage Prime's forces.

Razorwind groaned his pain receptors flared over his damaged circuits. He'd have to force stasis if he wanted to survive to meet any Autobots again.

The large black Dragon Mech groaned again as he slightly rolled on his side. He had one last duty to do before he offlined. The panels under his wing shifted as the frequency com revealed itself. With his last reserves of energy, the Seeker sent off a ping before collapsing. It was nothing specific but a general direction for the Autobots to follow.

It would have to do.

The mech's optics began dimming he curled up his tail around the small gem that contained Blazbite's spark. He had barely been able to salvage, and condense, it before the younger mech's body fell and burned through the atmosphere. It was all he had left and most likely his twin's last hope at life.

If only he could somehow be infused to a frame of some sort.

Assured that his brother wasn't going anywhere, the giant mech felt his systems begin shutting down. He curled his tail in closer, bring the condensed spark to his optic's view.

As his mainframe began shutting down and the world dimmed, he kept an optic on the jewel until the world faded to black.

* * *

_::To Be Continued::_

* * *

A/N: I was reading a few transformer ficts and got the itch to write a small one of my own. I admit both twins (and race of mech) are mine, oc and all that. I just decided to play a little before I threw in my other ficts.

**Special Mention to: **_**DragonQueen88**_ (because her dragonseekers fict (Truths) amused me enough for me to read it)

It inspired this fictlet, sort of. The 'Dragon Seeker' name is pretty much all that is the same between our ficts.

LJ 5/21/10


	2. Calling

**Twins**

By

LigerJager

……

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 2: Calling

* * *

"_Ron!" Judy Witwicky cried as she looked over the semiprecious stones in the quaint looking store they had run across. It was meant to look like one of those old western boutiques with stone and leather jewelry and other odds and end. Her husband wandered over curiously. He couldn't see anything to get excited about in the store, most of it looked rather cheap anyways. _

"_What?" _

"_Look," The blonde excitedly waved, urging him to come faster, "isn't it beautiful?" she chattered as she pointed towards a case. Judy was never one for jewelry, much less clunky pieces from an obvious tourist trap, she was more of a pearl type._

_Ron's eyebrows went up when he got a good look in the case. There was a large, rather ugly, bracelet made of turquoise, amber and sterling silver. However it was the center stone that caught his attention. The turquoise-ish stone was like rounded like a marble and had some rather interesting marble like swirls. And he wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light, but he swore it glowed slightly for a moment. _

"_Um," Ron was at a loss for words, because no; it was an ugly piece, no; the price was too expensive for said piece, and at the same time, yes; because the crowning stone was rather unique. The look on his sometimes, scattered brained, wife's face said he really didn't have a choice in the matter._

_Besides, they were on a rare vacation for the both of them and he really didn't want to ruin it an argument. And he'd do anything to keep his wife happy._

_Judy, of course, was not to be deterred by his lack of decisive response in the slightest. "I'm going to get it." Her gaze never once left the bauble. _

_Ron just gave up and waved over the counter girl. It wasn't too long after that that the Californian couple stepped out of the store and into the moderate Nevada weather. Judy happily hummed to herself as she admired the bracelet she was currently sporting, while her husband silently mourned the dent the purchase made in his pocket book. He just hoped they would make it out of this tourist trap before the moths started eating holes through his wallet. He was brought out of his musings by a hand on his arm and looked up to meet the delighted expression on his wife's face._

"_Oh, I almost forgot to tell you, Ron," the blonde babbled excitedly as they walked down the wood plank side walk. "I'm pregnant!" _

_Ron Witwicky fainted on the spot._

_Neither of them noticed the 'jewel' in the center of Judy's bracelet glow and dissolve into her skin, leaving only an empty setting._

……

_::The Temple Ruins of the Giza Plateau::_

……

Sam stared at his surroundings. The last he remembered was an explosion that had sent him careening through the air. He couldn't remember if that was before or after the air strike…or was that Megatron's own cannon blast?

The teenager looked around.

He had the odd feeling, like he was dreaming and at the same time wasn't. The mist obscured the land so that he could only make out possible shapes of rock formations and a low sun that seemed surreal.

'_W-where am I?'_ Sam tried to register his surrounding, but his body didn't move quite right.

'_Am I dead?'_ his voice echoed strangely to his own ears.

_**::We have been watching you…a long, long time.::**_ The whisper cut through Sam's musings forcing him to focus on the moving forms coming his way. There was a moment of staring before his mind registered the mechanical beings who seemingly materialized before him.

_**::You have fought for Optimus, Our last descendent, with courage and with sacrifice.::**_ The one standing directly in front of him spoke. His deep voice was rumbling through the air. Sam barely made out the five others that positioned themselves sporadically behind the speaker.

_**::The virtues of a leader.::**_Sam's mind stopped functioning for a moment when he felt the words reverberate through his bones. He tried drawing himself up to get a better look at the robot but found it hard, as though he was physically impeded. The Prime addressing him seemed not to notice his minute struggle as he kept speaking, forcing Sam's attention to focus once more on him.

_**::A Leader worthy of our secret.::**_ At this point another prime spoke. His voice was just as deep and commanding as his brothers. Sam briefly wondered if the voice was a family trait.

_**::The matrix of leadership is not found, it is earned.::**_ Yep, the deep, heroic voice had to be a Prime thing. Not even Megatron could command respect and attention by using his voice alone.

_**::Return now to Optimus. Merge the matrix with his spark.::**_The commanded echoed through Sam's skull, ensuring that he clearly remembered it. He dutifully ignored the hollow metallic ringing that faintly echoed as well.

_**::It is an always has been your destiny.::**_Sam didn't have time to notice that his 'dreamscape' feet clicked metallically against the stone surface as he stepped back.

He was suddenly shoved backwards by a tremendous force. It sent him flying and falling through the air.

And then pain.

Sam gasped and started awake. His whole body was in pain from head to toe where he landed. Mikeala was crying and clinging to him, making sure he was alive.

As soon as his brain kicked into gear, Sam leapt to his feet and sprinted for the downed Autobot. The words of the Primes still rang in his mind from their encounter. No one noticed with the Matrix glowed a bit brighter when Sam grabbed the key and slammed it into the last Prime's chassis.

The moment the matrix impacted Optimus' core, Sam felt a jolt of energy ripple through him and pulse outwards. In his mind he could almost see little arcs of lightning jumping form one cell to another in his body.

It almost felt like the Cube.

…but not?

Something clicked in his mind, like a lock opening. However that hardly seemed important because the Fallen had chosen that instant to appear. The force was too much and Optimus could only watch helplessly as the elder mech crooned at the key and departed with a sneer for the Energon machine.

Without the Matrix, it looked like the last Prime would once again offline. However Jetfire bravely donated his parts as Ratchet and Jolt showed their ingenuity with emergency maintenance.

Sam couldn't help but watch. The only thought that crossed his mind as he watched the operation on Optimus was that the leader needed cover.

Sam's eyes glowed an electric blue. Unnoticed above him a silhouette darkened, wavering the atmosphere like a heat mirage.

Bumblebee stared.

Luckily everyone's attention was on the upgrading Prime and not the human who revived him. In a moment the shadow solidified long enough for the 'head' to open up and shoot beam overhead…much like how the Dragoon Seekers used to do when covering the frontlines on Cybertron.

Sam listlessly watched the energy beam blaze a path towards the pyramid, Sam was reminded of one of Miles' favorite shows, that he absolutely had to watch and forced Sam to endure it as well, as a kid. He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him.

"Wow, a Kame-ha-me-ha blast," he muttered wryly before fainting. A large yellow hand caught him. Concerned and stunned blue optics studied him closely.

The scout looked around, slightly relieved that none of the humans (or Autobots) were looking Sam's direction, but concentrating on Optimus' and the pyramid. A few of the soldiers were looking around for the mech responsible for the blast, but none looked twice in Sam's direction.

The young scout looked at his charge, all the while his processor was going into overdrive. He found that nothing was computing. An explosion from the top of the pyramid drew his attention as he watched Optimus tumble with the Fallen. And a moment later, when all was said and done and Starscream had retreated with Megatron on his tail.

Bumblebee knew that there was much to be done and they would most likely be back at the base to be debriefed. Still there were many things that happened that did not make sense, especially one Witwicky teen. The yellow scout watched over his resting charge, hoping that it would do the organic some good.

Because when Sam woke up…

He had _**a lot**_ of explaining to do.

* * *

_::To Be Continued::_

* * *

A/N: So, for all the intelligent being out there, have you figured Sam out yet?

LJ 5/25/10


	3. Reunion

**Twins**

By

LigerJager

……

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 3: Reunion

* * *

_Judy Witwicky stared lovingly at her son. He was so small and absolutely perfect. From his button nose all the way to the tips of his tiny fingers and toes. _

_Ron had fainted within the first few minutes of her contractions and had to be kept separate and sedated. And had she not been in an enormous amount of pain at the time, Judy would have found it enormously humorous. However pending twenty-seven hours of labor, any coherent thoughts had been far from her mind. _

_However, as with all thing, everything turned out fine. And the best part was at the end of it all she was able to hold her seven pound, eight ounce son._

_A quiet clearing of the throat brought the newest mother's attention to the doctor in her room. He had a vague expression on his face. _

"_Mrs. Witwicky." When her attention was on him fully the doctor spoke again, this time with a tinge of confusion and awe. _

"_We don't know how you were able to carry him to term, but it was nothing short of a miracle." Judy's attention was torn fully away from the bundle in her arms and on the man with the stethoscope, clipboard and white lab coat. _

"_I don't understand."_

"_I don't how to say this any other way, Mrs. Witwicky," the doctor spoke with both frustration and resignation, "your fallopian tubes have, for lack of a better term, withered. They are unable to ovulate."_

_Judy clutched her son to her chest. "What exactly do you mean?" _

"_It means that you won't be able to conceive again." The new mother just hugged her child closer to her all the more. Sam had just become the most important member of the Witwicky family in that moment. The doctor continued on as though he hadn't just dropped a devastating bombshell upon the recovering woman._

"_To put it frankly, your son should have been stillborn."_

……

Whatever the species, time, or circumstances, twins always had a special connection. Some were strong, others weak. Cybertronians were no exception.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe being prime examples.

However much like the rest of their sub culture, the Seekers had an extra set of processes that set them apart from most mechs. This held true more so for the Draconic Seekers. The bond the twins shared enable them to strengthen and support the other, coordinate seamlessly, and keep the other from death should they need to.

And sometimes…they reached each other through dreams.

Sam twisted around in a vague sense of déjà vu. It felt as though he was meeting the primes once more. The light, the mist, and the surreal feeling he had from that one time. However it felt different. Not so…old or majestic…or powerful.

…but familiar.

Sam whirled around, unsure of where the feeling was coming from. Only he found that his body wasn't obeying him like he knew it should.

"Hello brother."

The voice jerked the teen out of his musings. Sam's eyes landed on the large silhouette that blocked out the sun in much the same manner as the Primes had. "I have been waiting for you."

"Ah…sure," How should he respond to that? "Sorry, didn't get the memo or something."

The figure chuckled at the response. "I see you haven't changed much, in either form."

"What! What do you mean by that!" The teen all but demanded. He was in no mood for riddles and grand schemes after the whole ordeal in Egypt.

"I wish I could explain to you, but we're low on time." The silhouette took a step forward, the metallic clang echoing in the rocky canyon. Sam was slightly startled at that and he focused on the shadow as its outline became a smidge clearer.

"Fine then," he all but snapped, "Say what you have to say, I'm all ears."

The being chuckled lightly, as though Sam had said something incredibly amusing. The teen for his part was growing annoyed. As if reading his growing agitation, the form nodded its head in acquiescence.

"I'm glad you are alive, the Primes normally wouldn't deign to interfere with the living but considering who you are and who you were helping it shouldn't have been a surprise."

"What?"

The being shook his head. "I just wanted to meet you again, even in this way. I'm glad you had another shot in this millennium. It only seems fitting that you of all beings should be the one to help Optimus and take down Megatron."

Sam stared. "How do you know all this?"

The figure paused, "I dream…and you dream. And I know."

Sam gave the shadow a flat look_. 'Well that's as clear as mud.'_

"Perhaps, in time, you will too." The silhouette faded into the fog leaving Sam alone. A moment later he was ejected from the dreamscape causing him to let out a terrified shriek.

Sam started awake.

The fluorescent lights and white walls told him that he was in the medical ward. And it was human built as well. The teen blinked a few times before he set out to hunt down some clothes.

Sam found himself a while later staring out at sea from the deck of the carrier that were travelling on. His mind wandered back to all that happened and stopped at the weird dream that made no sense to him. Perhaps it was a normal post-trauma thing, a way for the brain to cope with all that happened. He was actually surprised that he was relatively sane at all.

It was just a dream after all.

……

A few months or so had passed after Egypt and Sam couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he was forgetting something. It hadn't been so bad when he returned to school however, now that he was driving back home to California for winter break, the feeling had grown stronger.

…Like he was being called.

It wasn't until they passed into the Sierra Nevada that the feeling became an insistent tug.

Sam would have lied if he said that all was forgotten and just a memory. For whatever reason, the 'dream' remained clear, much to his chagrin because it drove him nuts. It hadn't gotten any clearer during his time at school.

Now that he was driving home, it felt like he was following clues again like in Egypt.

And he knew, the moment Bee hit the Sierra Nevada, that he had to be somewhere. It was almost a possession in the way that the Prime Language took over. When they came to an intersection the teen jerked the wheel and took the camaro in the opposite direction, surprising both of them.

With each turn and a few obscure trails, Bee's interest was piqued. The further they went, the more curious Bee became. His musings as to where Sam was taking him, were answered when they stopped at the entrance of a cave network.

The entire detour has taken close to four hours.

Sam slipped out of the driver side and made his way into the entrance while Bee transformed behind him. The teen disappeared just as the scout locked the last plate into place. His audio sensors picked up a gasp of surprise that hastened his steps after Sam.

When the scout got a good look at the cave, his joints almost buckled out from beneath him as he froze in shock.

There, in stasis, was…

…was _RazorWind?_ **How?**

He was supposed to be lost to them. But if he was here, then where was his twin? The two _**never **_went anywhere without the other.

The scout was at a loss as his CPU seemed to freeze. The yellow Autobot seemed unable to do anything but gape at the lost Seeker.

Sam though, moved forward.

The teen could hardly believe his eyes. There, collapsed on its side, was the mech from his vision. Relief flooded his being. He wasn't going crazy or hallucinating.

Sam collapsed on his knees near the large head. After staring for a few moments, he raised a shaky hand and reached out to the still form, intent on running his fingers along the smooth plating.

The moment a fingertip touched the 'brow' ridge right above the optics, he felt an almost static shock. The spark startled Sam immensely, causing him to jerk his hand back in surprise.

He could here some of the parts rotate. Slowly at first, as though the decades of centuries of wore away at them.

The dragon mech opened an optic and took in the fleshling kneeling next to him. He couldn't help the smile that curled the edges of his faceplates. He'd be able to recognize those eyes and that voice anywhere.

"Took you long enough, Blaze."

* * *

_::To Be Continued::_

* * *

A/N: Sam isn't some super human, Deus Ex Machina. He just is.

LJ 5/25/10


	4. Revelations

**Twins**

By

LigerJager

……

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 4: Revelations

* * *

Bumblebee almost fell over in shock. As it was, his stabilizers did give out and he landed hard on his aft. His processors were still trying to digest the fact the huge mech had called Sam Blaze.

…As in BlazeBite.

…As in his hero and role model during the war because of his attitude and energy.

…As in, Oh Primus!

Bee felt his processors stutter and ground to a stop again as he goggled at the revelations. He, somehow, had been looking after his idol, in flesh form. How the Dragon Seeker had been able to do that, he didn't know, but…

The scout thought he heard something break in his CPU Processor. It didn't make sense and yet it did.

At least his need to protect Sam wasn't completely one dimensional. It actually made sense to him as to why the teen's attitude and spirit attracted his attention on the first place. Sam's mannerisms, his energy were exactly the same as the Dragoon squad's lieutenant. The only thing the mortal lacked, aside from the body, was the flashy dragon mech's hyperactivity.

He remembered being in awe of the Dragoon Officer. It was something of a competition between himself and the psychotic saboteur twins to get the mech's attention. Not that it mattered really, because unlike a lot of the warrior mechs back then, BlazBite made time to play with them. And it really was play because at the time all three of the mechs were no better than young teens in Earth's terms of ages (no matter how much they blustered about it).

The young scout could only stare as his CPU calculated the impossibilities and astronomical numbers of their chances of meeting in such a manner.

……

Sam, for his part, paid no attention to his guardian. His attention was riveted on glowing green, almost yellow, optic that was staring right back at him. He was so entranced that it took more than a moment for his brain to register what the mech actually rasped.

"Brother?" his brain stalled for a moment, "S-Sure I understand that you could pick that from the internet, but I don't know how you could think I'm your brother unless you think Bee thinks of me as family which I can totally agree with that you relate to him because he's from Cybertron and Your from Cybertr-"

A deep chuckle cut him off.

"Still such a chatterbox, eh?" Something finally clicked in Sam's mind.

"It's you!" Sam jumped to his feet. "You were the one who was in that weird dream I had on the aircraft carrier!"

"I'm hurt you didn't recognize me."

"You were a blurry shadow!" Sam cried, "How was I supposed to recognize a shadow?"

The mech didn't answer. He instead shifted his large head so that both optics could take in the teen. Gears and joints ground and popped slowly and loudly from long disuse. Sam distantly recognized the head as that of a rather large…larger than Optimus's even.

"Why'd you call me Blaze anyways?" At the look the head sent him, Sam got the distinct impression that it would have tilted at the question.

"Because you're my brother, BlazeBite."

"How?" Sam made a show of looking over himself, he raised a skeptical brow at the black mech, "This," he waived up and down his body, "this isn't metal. This is flesh and blood."

"I know."

"This makes no sense."

"No I don't suppose it would." The large mech commented unhelpfully. The freshman sent the mech dirty look. However his eyes took in the shape of the head and traveled up the neck as another realization clicked in his brain.

Sam finally got a good look at the mech. A really good look. The mech was, in a word, big. Like Optimus big. His body was a matted black with silver streaks.

"So…Dragons?" Sam drew out, "I didn't know Cyberton had Dragons, err, mechs."

RazorWing chuckled, "It seems for every world there are the humanoid-like species and their version of dragons."

Sam shook himself out from staring at the booster ports where the wings were suppose to be. Razor looked on with sad, amused eyes.

"Huh, who'd have thunk?" the teen looked back at the head, "What's your name?"

"RazorWind."

The name echoed strangely in his head…and it with it a warm familiarity.

The human wryly wondered if strange situations no longer phasing him was a good thing or not. Weird things just seemed to happen around him.

……

While Sam was conversing with the huge black mech, the Autobot scout was having a conversation of his own.

**::Bumblebee to Optimus::**

There was a brief pause before the scout heard the telltale click of a response. _**::Optimus here, is something wrong?::**_

**::Not exactly. Sir, do you remember whose frequency that signal ping was sent on?::**

_**::Not specifically, it was a general call::**_

**::From which division?::** the young Autobot queried, his suspicions rising. He had, after all, been the first Autobot to land on this planet after Optimus received a faint call.

_**::From the Dragoon Seekers::**_

**::And how many were left when the Cube disappeared?::**

_**::Two.::**_ a pause in line told Bee that his Leader was putting together some conclusions, _**::Why ask? Did you find a clue?::**_The scout briefly wondered about how well this news would go over.

**::How about RazorWind himself?::**

The stunned silence that followed almost had the small scout believe he killed the Prime. It was an amusing thought to ponder later.

_**::How?::**_ the sharp inquiry was laden with disbelief. Bumblebee could tell he thoroughly stunned his commander.

**::I don't know. Should I patch him through?::**

_**::Yes::**_

The scout hesitated a moment before heading in to complete his task. What the light from the cave opening revealed once he stepped in made the young warrior flinch and murmur into his comm. **::Optimus he's in really bad shape.::**

_**::How bad?::**_ The scout paused and took his time in answering.

**::I don't think he'll be one comrade we'll be getting back.::**

* * *

_::To Be Continued::_

* * *

A/N: Second to last chapter.

LJ 5/26/10


	5. Origin

**Twins**

By

LigerJager

…

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 5: Origins

* * *

_**::What!:: **_

Optimus had to keep from violently flinching, as it was he twitched. The unexpected shout came from none other than Sideswipe.

Generally when Bumblebee used the general comm. link most of the mech were courteous enough to either ignore the transmission or reframe from commenting. With everything that had happened over the last two and a half years and the massive influx of data from this small planet alone, the Prime had forgotten for a while that regular rules of decorum never applied to either saboteur brother. Without his twin present, Sideswipe seemed to hold himself in reserved self control.

However, when the scout uttered the Dragoon Captain's name all bets were off. Any sort of familiarity would be a highly sought after balm for their weary sparks. Especially for Sideswipe as he was without his brother.

As it was, Optimus became keenly aware that more than just Sideswipe were now intently listening in on the conversation.

It had been so long since the Dragoon units were even mentioned that Optimus forgot how attached the young scout and saboteurs were to the two powerhouses. The millennia of separation between the youngster and their idol had taken a toll on them. It was probably part of the large reason why Sideswipe chose a silver corvette and not the expected red when he arrived.

_**::Where is he?::**_ the saboteur roared over the comm. link.

**::Sideswipe::** Optimus reprimanded sharply. The corvette Autobot immediately went quiet, though he gave the impression of shifting and fidgeting impatiently. The Autobot Leader returned his attention back to his scout.

**::Bumblebee, is he in stasis?:: **

_**::No. I think he was, like Jetfire:: **_The young scout mused, the old seeker crossed his mind _**::He only came online when..::**_

Optimus let the scout work out his thoughts. It was obvious he had just realized something.

_**::He came online when Sam did something:: **_

**::The damage?:: **

_**::It's…::**_ the Autobots could literally hear Bumblebee wince _**::extensive::**_

**::How bad::** Ratchet finally joined the conversation, his duties as the Chief Medical Officer coming to the fore.

_**::I don't think you could save him, bad Ratchet::**_ Bee replied quietly. Even as young as he was (in Cybertronian terms), Bumblebee had seen a lot of battle field injuries and had a emergency medic training for the field, and with experienced eyes and a fairly good approximation of the damages that he could see, never mind the internal, he knew it was bad.

**::Give me a basic overview and I'll see if you can't at least sustain him until I can get a look.:: **

Bee looked at the huge black mech dubiously. Plates were twisted, torn, missing. Some were blackened and other surfaces had long jagged tears, slicing through the armor and tearing deeply into the undercarriage, exposing joints, mechanisms, and wiring. He could see the points where energon had tracked down the mech's haunches. There was even a gaping hole where it looked like someone had literally dug their hands and pulled, like they were trying to literally tear the dragon in half. In all honesty the scout was surprised the mech had all four limbs intact.

The human equivalent would be like looking at a horse after it was mauled by a mountain lion. Huge bleeding gashes, missing flesh, exposed muscles, slashed tendons and protruding, broken bones.

Unlike his brother, RazorWind was made for heavy assault and close range. It was why he survived against the former Lord High Protector for so long. To see the visible damages, did not bode well at all.

Dutifully the scout named the visible damages. On the other end of the frequency the mechs flinched. Optimus eyed his medic grimly and Ratchet, had he been human would have been and interesting shade of greenish-white.

The one hit the hardest though, was the young Saboteur. Sideswipes stabilizers gave out as he crashed to the floor. Even he knew what little hope he had left of seeing either draconic mech dimmed significantly.

The corvette Autobot roused himself from his stunned state long enough to asked the one question that burned in his mind as soon as Bee comm.-ed in his situation.

**:: Any sign of BlazeBite?::**

Optimus silently observed. He wasn't sure whether this was enough to, as the humans said, "be the straw that broke the camel's back". The long millennia without the extra firepower the Dragoon Platoon provided had taken a hard toll on the Autobot ranks.

With the brothers around, the young twins Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had a firm foundation, assurance, and sanity amidst the chaos, death, and pain of the battles. They also had some of the best mentors and role models willing to spend time with them. And with the mechs leaving, and thus taking away that feeling of security, the two slightly unbalanced (teenage) mechs became some of the most psychopathic Cybertronians amongst their ranks, Sunstreaker more so than Sideswipe.

_**::Negative::**_ Bee replied instantly, though not really sure what to make of the situation playing out before him. His processor threatened to stall for a moment when he tried to think on it.

Optimus, more than a little aware of the falling moral amongst his men, took command of the frequency wave again.

**::Bumblebee, can you put RazorWind on the comm.? I think this one report is long overdue:: **

_**::Sir::**_ The scout confirmed.

Optimus took the moment to look over his troops. Ratchet still looked rather sickly, Ironhide was grim, and Sideswipe…

Had a combination of grief, despair and…hope running across his features.

The Prime studied the saboteur. Sideswipe had an unreadable expression his faceplates, however his body was tensed in anticipation. They needed some form of closure. Or else he'd lose more of his mech.

Optimus just hope that the Dragoon Captain could do that.

…

"So, what is it you did on Cybertron?" Sam asked, partially out of curiosity and partially because he had no idea of what else to talk about. This was a giant mechanical dragon whom he assumed had the same origins as the Autobots. It made sense considering that the dragon, RazorWind, had the same symbols inscribed on him. Though, from what Sam could recollect from the data he received from the Allspark, they seemed much older in origin than those that drove him nuts his first week of school.

The yellow-green optics took on an amused glimmer.

"Depends." Razor eyed the teen, "Do you want to know about before or during the war?"

Sam blinked. "You were there before the war?"

The dragon rasped out a chuckled. He idly wondered how long he'd been in stasis and if his brother's obvious avatar remembered anything. Judging by the organic's reaction, he'd have to take that as a disappointing no.

"What's so funny?" the teen queried, "you find a lot of what I say amusing or something?"

If the Seeker had the strength he would have shook his head, instead he settled for just speaking. Neither of them noticed that RazorWing hadn't exactly conversed in English since the start. Sam's mind had heard and translated leaving him none the wiser.

"I just forget how inquisitive younglings can be, then again you were always like that."

"See, there you go again," Sam snarked in annoyance, "I'm human and you're…a giant mechanical dragon! There are no similarities. None!"

The wing leader wisely kept quiet. The boy would come to understand in time, especially when he began to become knowledgeable in Cybertronian.

"To answer your earlier question: yes, my kind somewhat pre-date the Allspark. It is why we are different." His optics took on a somber expression, "We were the predecessors, crude, violent and nothing more than organic mimics. And yet, when the Ixoss's original organic life, our race's creators, died out our predecessors carried on their work."

"Whoah, whoah," Sam cut in, crossing his arms in a time-out sign, "Ixoss? Creators? Organics?"

"Ixoss. The original name of the planet before the Cybertronian Empire. Surely you didn't think the mechs just came to being?" Sam's expression said it all. RazorWing almost snorted in annoyance. The Cybertronian Empire was an overwhelming entity, and the mechs, especially the Primes, intentionally or not, gave the impression that they always were.

"All life starts in one way or another, as a creation. This truth hold true for Cybertron."

"Ixoss was much like this planet actually (what I saw of it) only it had an advance civilization with many wonders." He smiled gently at the youth, "you would probably believe them to be tales and fantasies, but they were marvels to behold."

The large head took on a far-off look. Remembering what it was like.

"But as with all things, it passed. The planet's climate changed. And so did its people."

"And the creators?"

"The Findali. They were an intellectual race and made many advancements. The height of their achievements was creating a source of energy that would need no renewal."

"The Allspark." Sam spoke with realization.

"Yes. The beginning of the end for them."

"How so?" Sam gave the mech a puzzled look. The dragon took it upon himself to explain.

"They were a proud race. Arrogant and assured of their superiority. Sadly they were justified in their opinions, because they were correct for the most part."

"However they were slow to breed and as time passed so did their ability to create young. The energy the spark gave off in the beginning was poisonous to them, rendering them infertile, and went unnoticed until far too late. Killed off slowly by their own creation. The irony."

"Ok, so where do you come in?"

"We, the Dragoon mechs, were modeled after an extinct life form. They were known as Mutbahs, dragons in the old language, and highly prized big game targets. Our kind," Sam ignored the inclusion, "was created to guard their civilization. As their skills advanced, so did we."

"And the Autobots and Decepticons?"

"When it became clear that their race was to become extinct, the most brilliant minds came together and created life forms, like us, to carry on their knowledge. To be their legacy if you will."

"So…what happened?" Sam felt his voice getting small.

"As with all things, the mechs progressed and when the last organic life faded, the mech started building and soon took over Ixoss and renamed it Cybertron. Because we were the elder race and different, the Cybertronians ostracized our kind to the far mountains holds that were too treacherous for them to thrive on or build."

Sam all but squirmed in his place, bursting with questions. "How did you survive then? How old are you? How do you know so much? How did you become involved in the civil war?"

The ancient mech seemed to become amused once more. "So many questions." The dragon murmured, "We survived because we were the first and the eldest. Our creators made us so that we could adapt and survive. As for my age, younger than Autobot commander, Optimus Prime. As to how I acquired my knowledge, our capacity and programming is always learning and adapting. You could say that at our inception as a species, we are implanted with every available resource to ensure our survival."

"Oh, well, that makes sense, I guess." The teen stuttered. "But of you are a superior race, then why did you become involved in the Cybertronian Civil War?"

Razorwing's optics blinked, "I never said we were superior, just more resourceful, cunning as all life is when they need to survive. We were the first therefore we were different. The Finali trusted us in a way they didn't the Cybertronians. So we have access to their knowledge."

"B-but-"

"We could match them equally, in melee anyways, and in some cases overwhelm them, but the Cybertronians were more…numerous."

The mech gave a sigh, "We entered the war after the Decepticons raided the largest home for our kind and slaughtered every mech there. Including the younglings." The optics became somewhat haunted, "it was a wakeup call to us as we had fallen into something of an apathetic existence. To always be on the outside, to be the exiles on our own home planet. We were created to be guardians and we had failed in our duties, so we joined."

"Oh." Was all Sam could say.

* * *

_::To Be Continued::_

* * *

A/N: This was meant to be the last chapter, but it grew a bit big. So I divided it.

LJ 5/29/10


	6. Saying Goodbye

**Twins**

By

LigerJager

…

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 6: Saying Goodbye

* * *

Bumblebee watched the strange pair for a time. Sam, even though he was once again in a strange situation, was actually more at ease than when he relaxed on a Sunday afternoon. Thankfully it wasn't dangerous, just…odd.

The scout felt the blip on his comm., signaling that someone was impatient on the other end of the line. It looked like he'd have to oblige.

Sam hardly noticed his companion's approach as he busily chatted with the mech, his cat-like curiosity getting the better of him. Razorwind though, was not as ignorant.

While he kept one optic on Sam, his other regarded the yellow scout comm.-ing softly to his superior officer, possibly. Considering that the mech hadn't attacked him on sight and was accompanied by (what he could only guess was) a native life form, his _brother's_ no-less, then the only possibly faction the young bot was most likely to associate with was the Autobots.

Briefly RazorWind wondered if it was Optimus or another Prime. Primus only knew how long he had been in stasis.

The teen halted mid-question when he heard the familiar hydraulics of Bee's steps. He turned his attention back towards his guardian and looked at the mech curiously. The scout had something of an odd expression. It was caught between dutiful soldier and…chagrin? Anxiety? Annoyance? Resignation? He couldn't really identify it.

Behind him RazorWind watched with curiosity and humor. The mech acted like a youngling when he clearly a battle hardened soldier. It was amusing.

"Bee, what's up?" the scout acknowledged his ward's presence with a nod.

"Sam, excuse us please."

The teen looked curiously between the two, most likely wondering what it was that they had to discuss, before shrugging, "Sure. Don't mind me." The teen hopped to his feet, from where he sank down during RazorWind's lecture, and left to inspect the dragon's broken form in hopes of giving the two a small amount of privacy. At least it seemed like a private sort of thing. He had much to think on anyways.

Bee watched Sam long enough to ensure he was out of hearing range before turning back to the old seeker. The Dragoon's expression cooled with each step the human took further away. By the time the younger mech returned his optics to the old captain, RazorWind's features were glacial.

"Who is your commander?" Bee pulled up short, practically freezing mid-step, not expecting the sudden hostility. The ancient dragon had been friendly enough with Sam and the scout had hoped the old mech remembered him. Alas it seemed that one wish wasn't going to be answered.

"Well?" The impatient query brought Bumblebee out of his startled state, causing him to straighten.

"Optimus Prime."

"He's still alive?"

Bee became slightly offended on Optimus' behalf, though truthfully it was a warranted disbelief. Many, far too many, powerful soldier had died in the line of duty.

"Yes."

"Then you are an Autobot?" A thought occurred to RazorWind, as his processors finally registered the mech before him. The match took is processors way back. To a time where another came to mind, only much younger and smaller. He just needed to confirm his suspicions.

"Yes." Bee could see the hostility literally slip away, only to be replaced by a neutral, knowing look.

"Your designation?" the question came more slowly.

"Bumblebee."

"You can speak."

It wasn't a question and for a moment Bumblebee had to think back to when he'd last seen the Seeker. Which was…just after battle of _Tyger Pax_? Of course that captain would remember that wound, it was still fresh...along with the knowledge that most of his men had finally been annihilated under heavy decepticon fire.

"Yes, after a fashion." The Cube had jump-started his systems, allowing him vocalized communication once more. He just had to wait a while before it was completely healed. "He would like to hear your report."

"As to be expected."

"I'll log you into our frequency then." The black mech just blinked his acknowledgment before opening his badly damaged sensory array for Bee to access. The comm. link clicked into place. There was a moment of silence before the deep, familiar voice of the last Prime transmitted through.

_**::RazorWind, Captain of the Fifth Platoon of the Dragoon Seeker Battalion. It has been a while::**_

**::Optimus Prime, still the master of understatements I see:: **the black mech replied in kind **::I've been in stasis a long, long time:: **

_**::It is good to hear you again::**_ RazorWind didn't even bother to answer. He had a report to give after all.

**::BlazeBite and myself located the Allspark. Unfortunately, we were intercepted by Megatron::** there was a pause, whether it was from grief or thinking over a statement, Optimus wasn't sure **::The lieutenant did not survive the encounter::**

There was a moment of silence in respect. This statement had become all too common for the Cybertronians. RazorWind just shrugged it off as he gathered up his files from the fight, as well as travel logs from their search. No doubt his commanding officer would like to verify them himself. The moment the package was complete, he sent the file for Optimus to review. He didn't feel like recounting the entire incident anyways.

_**::My condolences::**_ The Prime had almost flinched when the folder bombarded his sensory. He would review it later. Optimus had liked the energetic Dragoon, he had been a bright spot for them in grimmest of times **_::We received your signal ping, but were unsure of whether it was a fluke::_**

**::You are here::** was the noncommittal reply.

_**::The Decepticons also followed behind us::**_

**::Casualties?::**

_**::My lieutenant, Jazz:: **_ The news surprised the black mech immensely.

**::Really? He seemed the least likely to be brought down. A skilled officer if I remember him correctly::**

_**::Megatron tore him in two:: **_

That was…unfortunate, the mech thought detachedly. Doubtless it was a moral dampener for Optimus' forces. The Second was a popular mech.

What if…

As the thought struck him and RazorWind ran a brief diagnostic on his partially working systems. It could work…maybe.

**::Optimus, is there a CMO assigned within your squad?::**

_**::Yes. You would know him. His designation is Ratchet::**_

**::The cranky one?::**

The unexpected surprise caught the Autobots off guard and caused more than a few snickers. Ratchet harrumphed. Sideswipe couldn't wipe the grin that etched itself into his faceplates. How he wished Sunny was there at that moment.

_**::The best I know::**_ Optimus answered neutrally. He couldn't agree with the captain's assessment, but he couldn't exactly refute the statement either.

**::Then he should knows a procedure used amongst us Dragoons:: **no one noticed the medic's optics widen in surprise** ::or at least have some partial access to it::** All optics turned to the stunned Medic, before he could vehemently protest the statement, the black Dragoon continued **::Tell me, did you keep the body?::**

_**::Yes::**_

…

Optimus, and several other autobots, turned his surprised optics on his medic. Had Ratchet been a lesser 'bot (and a lot younger) he would have fidgeted under their scrutiny.

As it was he met his commander's gaze with barely a flinch.

"You kept Jazz's parts?" The tone held surprise, disappointment and astonishment. After all, the medic had fought for the rights to the saboteur's remains, supposedly to dispose of them in the way Cybertronian physicians do.

To think he'd been kept in stasis all this time…

"I had heard some myths, vorns ago, about how the Dragoon mechs were able to revive lost comrades. If those rumors held any truth, I hoped that I'd be able to find a way to repair him and bring him back online."

"There's something you're not telling me, Ratchet." The usually taciturn physician seemed to hesitate in imparting his knowledge. He wasn't even sure the procedure would really work.

"It requires lots of parts. Parts we don't have…and I don't know anything about the procedure beyond speculation."

_**::Yet::**_ the voice made all the Autobots jump_** ::I can override the code for him to access our medical knowledge, it should make him more than just competent::**_

Ratchet huffed at the insinuation. The other Autobots laughed at the dig. Only the Dragoon Seekers had enough gall to play with the temperamental medic. The captain gave a raspy chuckle over the frequency.

_**::I have seen the heights of your kind's medical knowledge, it is adequate…for hasty repairs::**_ Ratchet sputtered and it was all Sideswipe could do to keep from snickering like a youngling. _**That**_ was the intimidating Dragoon captain he remembered.

**::What about yourself?::** the Autobot Leader queried **::don't you think he could repair you?::**

_**::No I don't::**_

**::Why?::** The question seemed futile, but there was much about the stoic captain he didn't know. Though, Optimus had a feeling he didn't want to know the answer.

_**::He'll have to use my parts and he'll also be able make better repairs::**_

**::Is there a way? Last I knew, our parts were incompatible::**

_**::There is a way, and Ratchet will know how. Your ancestors were correct in the assumption that the usage of our parts would strengthen you. Thankfully our makers foresaw this::**_ Optimus, as well as the rest who were listening in, filed the words away for later._**  
**_

**::You can do that?::** the commander asked in surprise **::I never knew such knowledge existed::**

_**::It does, for us. It's a pity your forebears were too arrogant to associate with their brethren::**_ RazorWind's annoyance became all too apparent _**::You wouldn't have had to wait this long to get Jazz back::**_ Ratchet felt an imbedded, hidden, ghost file unlock in his memory processor. The sudden surge of information caused him to slightly jump.

**::And now that knowledge is lost to us.::**

_**::Not all our knowledge is lost::**_ the dragon added vaguely _**::you'll just have to wait:: **_

**::Clarify, please:: **

_**::You knew my race was the elder and therefore had knowledge available to us that you **_**Cybertronians **_**were deliberately cut-off from.::**_

**::Cryptic much?::** SideSwipe all but snarked through the link, gaining himself a glare from Optimus. He assumed the old dragon wouldn't mind, in fact he heard a faint snicker on the other end. He had felt relief when he heard that familiar voice once more. Not his idol's, but it was about as close as he was going to get.

_**::No, just imparting hindsight to all now that **_**your**_** kind have effectively destroyed our home::**_

**::Hindsight?::** the last Prime had always intuitively known that there was some lingering resentment. And that the Dragoons held it against the second mech race of Cybertron. It hadn't been their war to begin with and yet they paid the heaviest price of all.

Extinction.

Add to the fact that they were the firstborn,**_ designated protectors_**, and yet were ostracized for being different. Yes, there was much bitter blood between their kinds.

The twins had actually displayed their feelings the least of their comrades. However the only ones they seemed to be completely at ease were the younglings, like saboteur twins and Bumblebee, children in their eyes, not to be blamed for their elders' deeds.

_**::Yes hindsight:: **_the dragoon captain tersely replied, doing a rather good impression of Ratchet_** ::After all had you just asked, BlazeBite and I would have made you another Allspark::**_

The comm. link clicked off. The rest of the Cybertronians were left staring in disbelief at each other. What did that mean?

…

Sam had come back from making his rounds around the massive body. In a way it left him with an appreciation for all those dragon-slaying knight tales. If any of them were true then those men either really, **_really_** brave...or extremely suicidal.

The injuries themselves were massive. Sam had seen the parts of Jazz at Mission City and what happened to the lieutenant had nothing on what this mech went through. Frankly, Sam was quite impressed that RazorWind was still somewhat functioning, which led to the teen asking about how the massive machine acquired them. Needless to say the history that came out of that tale left the human speechless.

"When we fought Megatron, your body was destroyed. He tore you apart. Joint by joint. Wire for wire. Circuit by circuit. The only part of you I could save was your spark core. I compacted it into a small stone size."

"Why did you do that?" It seemed like an awful lot of trouble such a big mech to go through so much trouble. Which also begged the question of how did it exactly get _in_ him if what RazorWind said was true. Somehow, though, he suspected that it was his parents who had the answer and not the large black mech.

The dragon-mech caught the look, "Why? Because, you are my brother." He wrapped his neck around Sam, part of the mechanical head resting on his chest, "what other reason do I need?"

Sam could feel his defenses break down a bit. The look the mech sent him alone was enough to make him half believe the incredulity itself. "If I am your brother, then why don't I know you or remember anything?"

The Dragoon captain huffed warm air in Sam's direction, causing his shirt to whip a little. "You'll remember, eventually. Organics work differently from mechanical. You just have to be patient." The optics took on an amused air.

"After all, you alone carry an entire race's knowledge."

"Yah, no pressure there." Sam muttered in annoyance. RazorWind heard him regardless and chuckled. He had no doubt Sam would be judicious with whatever he acquired added to the recovery of his memories and, in some way, they would live on.

The beauty of their creation was that they accumulated all the knowledge of their predecessors and creators which allowed them to be able access a wealth of wisdom and knowledge and do things the Cybertronians couldn't or could only dream of. Sadly, the secondborn never sought to ask the first, and their planetary guardians, and thus lost that wealth of knowledge.

Their loss and Earth's gain.

"Brother- mine." The dragon rumbled faintly with warmth, "always."

Sam looked up at the dimming optic, curious at the change in attitude. The mech looked slightly dazed, as though caught in a memory. His massive snout bumped up against Sam's side, in much the way a horse would its rider.

"Sorry I took your wings, Blaze." The mech murmured. The human teen laid a hand on the muzzle, something audibly clicking open in his mind. He paid it no heed as he stroked the almost skin like metal. It was like petting a snake, warm and…soft.

The spark core began pumping in rhythm of a human heart. Sam could feel the beat through the plates, which startled him. It was one thing dealing with Optimus and the Autobots. They could be conceived as alien mechs because they didn't anything resembling biological functions. They ran smoothly.

To actually feeling something that resembled a biological life in a metallic hull, it was…bewildering and unnerving. The touch also awoke the part of Sam's brain that mentally partitioned man and mech and stirred up the feeling of dragon mech being a real, live being and not some mechanical construct.

The Autobots were living in their own way, however that knowledge was more of an intellectual acknowledgement. Sam had known it before, but now the realization sank in.

…with all the subtlety of a lead bowling ball. And something else weighed heavily in the back of mind. A suffocating grief.

"No worries, Raz," the teen whispered, the nickname slipping out unconsciously, "I can still go fast."

The massive head rasped out a chuckle, "speed junkie."

"Always."

The massive dragon gave a heavy shutter before completely shutting down. The glowing optics lethargically blinked in a vain attempt to keep an eye on the human before fading out completely half lidded.

Sam just quietly sat there, fingers gently stroking the 'brow' ridge above the closed optics. The metal cooled under his touch as the last vestiges of life slowly drained away.

It was a long while before the teen moved.

...

"Bee," he looked up at the scout, "I want to go home."

The mech just nodded solemnly. He was of the same mind.

The teen had much to sort out and the Autobots, to grieve and prepare. If what RazorWind had said was true about the young Witwicky housing Blazebite's spark, then Sam would probably need him more than ever. Especially on the off chance that he regained memories.

As Sam made his way out, Bee dropped small homing beacon. Optimus and most likely Sideswipe would want to give the captain full honors. They'd inform him of when they retrieved the body. He was sure they'd all want to say one final goodbye.

And if they followed the Dragoon's last request…they had a chance of getting Jazz back.

Bumblebee sadly turned away and hopped through the cave entrance, instantly transforming back into his Camaro guise. Memories of another time and place crowded his thoughts as Sam scrambled in. Flashes of his sparklinghood and youngling years came to the fore, unbidden. The ancient Dragoon code murmured through Bee's processor.

"_One life for another. Brother for Brother. That is our way. Always."_

…

Someday we gonna rise up on that wind you know  
Someday we gonna dance with those lions  
Someday we gonna break free from these chains and keep on flyin'

They tellin' me it's all good just wait  
You know you're gonna be there someday  
Sippin' on Jim Beam ok  
Gotta get these things one day  
Till then do another line you know  
Searching for that other high  
Stop or I gotta steal then steal  
Kill or I'm gonna be killed  
I got a sack in my pocket  
Conscious yellin' drop it  
You know we're gonna lose it someday  
And we tryin' to hold it all together but the devil is too clever so  
I'm gonna die you gonna die we gonna die Someday one day I said

Someday we gonna rise up on the wind you know  
Someday we gonna dance with those lions  
Someday we gonna break free from these chains and keep on flyin'

Try to lie but it ain't me Ain't me  
Try to look but I can't see  
Can't stop right now cause I'm too far and I can't keep goin' cause it's too hard  
In the day in the night it's the same thing  
On the field on the block it's the same game  
On the real if you stop then it's no pain but if you can't feel pain then it's no gain  
Rearrange and you change and it's all bad and you try to maintain but you fall back  
And you crawl and you slip and you slide down  
Wanna make it to the top better start now  
So I hold my soul and I die hard  
All alone in the night in the graveyard  
Someday one day I'm gonna be free and they won't try to kill me for being me  
Hey someday

Someday we gonna rise up on that wind you know  
Someday we gonna dance with those lions  
Someday we gonna break free from these chains and keep on flyin'

If you know how this is  
Gonna see it's not that easy  
Don't stop get it till it's done  
From where you are or have begun  
I said keep on try a little harder to see everything you need to be  
Believe in your dreams  
That you see when you're asleep

Someday we gonna rise up on that wind you know  
Someday we gonna dance with those lions  
Someday we gonna break free from these chains and keep on flyin'

**-Someday by Flipsyde-**

* * *

_::End::_

* * *

A/N: Writing a chapter is like a dog gnawing on a bone, you just gnaw and gnaw until it's gone or the chapter is complete.

…

Read a few ficts with bot!Sam, spark!Sam, and one with a Dragon!Mech!Sam. I wanted something different.

So I present to you human (and only human) Sam with a Mech Soul (and said mech's memories). Housing the spark of a once powerful mech allowed him to assimilate some of the Cube's energy and keep from going completely nuts in RoTF.

…

BlazeBite and RazorWind were Lieutenant and Captain (respectively) of the last dragon mech Dragoon Seeker Battalion on Cybertron. Their Platoon was deployed on Tyger Pax and drew the heaviest fights…and most losses. Their kind hailed all the way back from before Alpha Trion. The twins were the last of the War Dragon mechs (whom are now extinct).

BlazeBite was a sleek and slender red and yellow dragon (hence Bee, Sunny & Sides color choices). He was built for speed.

RazorWing was a sleek, matte Black and Silver Mech and built for heavy assault.

…

If you want to continue, write a more in depth story, or use this plot, be my guest, just kindly send me the link so I can read it and a nod.

Maybe I could continue this at a later date, but that would take some persuasion. It's longer than I intended, which was a three-shot. (Shrugs)

LJ 5/29/10


	7. Part II: The Horrors of War

**One Half**

By

LigerJager

…

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 1: Horrors of War

* * *

From the moment the comm. was cut, Optimus felt a growing sense of apprehension. The feeling was only compounded and morphed into full out horror when he actually did open the mission report the stalwart captain had sent him.

What RazorWind hadn't realized was that because of the critical damage he'd obtained in that death match so long ago, was that he'd accidentally ended up sending more than he'd thought. More than he and his kind would have willingly shared. The side the captain never meant for the Prime to see. As it was, the Dragoon was gone, leaving Optimus to reacquaint himself with the darkest side of the war.

From the moment Philian Hold fell to the ravages of Megatron's ruthless slaughter to the outright degradation of their race by his own to the outright suspicion and prejudice to watching comrade after comrade fall, one by one, to finally the spectacularly brutal face off with Optimus' megalomaniacal brother.

He almost felt physically ill, like the humans, when he finally, _finally_ understood just a little the Dragoons' resentment towards Cybertron's secondborn. As it was he could hear the once, fiery commander WildWing's sharp reprimand after a confrontation with Megatron that left the brute alive.

"_Why hesitate? End this now, unless you too want our kind extinct."_

At the time he had thought the Dragoon was just referring to the overall inhabitants of Cybertron, and in essence did. However with the revelations he'd just viewed, the Prime had a distinct feeling the double meaning of 'our' was meant specifically for the dragon mechs.

They were allies, much needed firepower and support. And yet…they had been treated far worse by their own allies then how the Autobots had treated the Decepticons. Optimus didn't know how to respond when he saw his own people gleefully put their allies in harm's way because they could. Even drawing upon friendly fire. It was a never ending nightmare.

He saw the battles that had been reported an Autobot victory and yet had been fought and won, with heavy casualties, by the Dragoons. What was left of high command had _a lot_ to answer for.

He was the Prime. He _trusted_ his men. And yet…how could he trust his own people when they acted far worse than the Decepticons? At least Megatron's troops were honest about their hate and superiority. This though…

This was much worse.

Optimus was shaken deeply.

When his emissaries were sent to the Firstborn, to ask an alliance, the small contingent that showed up was what, he had assumed, their best warriors. Now, though, he knew.

They were the survivors.

The remnants.

…All that was left out of a race thousands.

And now he had no way of apologizing to their kind, to give reparations. Because, honestly, the Autobots would have been finished, decimated even, within the first three vorns of Cybertron's civil war had not the planet's first guardians taken up their mantle and fulfilled their duty.

And with the last transmission from the Dragoon Captain it seemed that all that they had fought for was for naught. They had doomed themselves with their arrogance…and pride.

In the end, they all lost.

* * *

_::Twins Part II: To Be Continued::_

* * *

A/N: And I thought I was done with this. Bah.

Philian Hold was something like a civilian city/home-base for the Dragoon Mechs. Much like the Jedi-Temple was to the Jedi. It was also the birth place of the Dragon Mech after their exile.

If you want to think of a comparable horror to what RazorWind and BlazeBite felt and saw, I say that it was a cross between Anakin's slaughter of the Jedi Temple and multiply the brutality by a thousands. And that was only the one Hold alone.

There were five.

…And each one worse than the one before.

LJ 6/4/10, 6/30/10


	8. Part II: What Dreams See

**One Half**

By

LigerJager

…

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 2: What Dreams See

* * *

The moment his head hit the pillow at his parent's house, Sam hadn't been able to get a wink of peaceful sleep. It was as if a switch had been turned on and his brain was going a million miles a nano-second.

Because he was dreaming of a life, of a place, of a culture, of a _world_,that wasn't his.

And yet it was.

He, because he just knew that he was seeing through his own optics, was looking over an epically proportioned cliff ledge, facing naught but the open skies. The startling part was that he knew his location, his planet, but most importantly it was a place only he and his brother had visited.

The strangest part of it was the fact that it was made of a natural sediment base. Strangely similar to what could be found on earth.

'_Iodonite.'_ His processor instantly supplied, '_an excellent conduit when refined and processed. Used for repair and energy extraction.'_

Sam felt his gaze wander back towards the stars, longing to fly freely and explore seeping into his mind. He skies were no longer safe to explore with the former Lord High Protector on the hunt for their blood. The heavens were patrolled by the much faster seekers with abilities they didn't know how to combat. Yes their aerial battles were spectacular, however the Dragoons were a combination based fighting and not as swift.

The sky screeched as a piercing whistle tore through the silence. Optics blinked in the direction of the approaching seeker. It seemed Megatron wasn't withholding any punches as the Air Commander himself screamed his hatred of his aerial archrival.

"_Die Dragoon Scum!"_ the mech's recognizable voice echoed as it dove upon him. Sam felt his body coil and tense, preparing for the inevitable collision. His optics narrowed as he launched himself and collided with his would-be murderer.

With a defiant mechanical roar of his own, the teen felt his serrated claws extend and sink into the metallic body, shredding wires and cables with ease, as they rocketed towards the rapidly approaching earth.

…

Sam started awake, cold sweat dripping down his back. His mind reeled, frantically trying to gain its bearings, along with his heart.

'_A dream. It was just a dream.'_

He stared down at his shaking, _human_ hands. For a moment the metallic appendages replaced his vision of them, the claws curling upwards in much the same manner that his fingers did. And then it was replaced once again by his organic digits. Sam stilled for a beat before flying from his bed and plastering himself against the far wall. His eyes locked on his mussed up sheets unblinkingly, the images of his dream playing before his sight.

Something audibly clicked in his mind, in much the same way a key would unlock an old lock.

"What is happening to me?" he asked himself helplessly in the silence of his room.

Whatever it was, it was far more gentle in its integration than what the Allspark knowledge had down to him. In fact, now that he really analyzed it, nothing ever really seemed to happen other than various 'unlocking' noise in the back of his mind after some incidents or actions.

He had had that happen ever since he was younger so he'd thought nothing of it. It wasn't really until the incident with the Cube that it truly started to take precedent. It especially became apparent after the Giza fiasco, or rather after he died, where whatever changes being made had manifested.

Bee had made sure to grill him in the privacy of his cab on their drive to the aircraft carrier.

And the scariest part was that it happened seamlessly and he felt all the better for it, not insane like when the Cube's knowledge was doing a hostile takeover of his brain.

If what that torn up robo-dragon had said was true, that he was it younger brother and that his soul was that of a mech far older than most of the Autobots and that he had been part of some insanely powerful race with the entirety of that knowledge in his skull somewhere (let's not forget that) and…and…

Sam's musings were interrupted abruptly when somewhere, in the streets beyond his house, tires screeched in the streets. Instantly the teen's mind supplied Starscream's face twisted with hatred as he dove towards him.

The teen flinched, willing the image away. He didn't need to see the coward's face in his dreams, he'd already seen it enough to know he didn't want to see it again. Sam wondered as to where the extra information was stored in his brain and if his recent nightly visions were a result of it.

Hadn't that…dragon mech-thingy also said that organics worked differently? Did that mean whatever race created the Cybertronians, both races, had a contingency plans for other organics? A race that powerful wouldn't want their legacy to be lost for all time…would it?

The young Witwicky tiredly rubbed his hand over his eyes and drug his hand down his face. He was tired. Tired and fatigued. And beginning to feel incredibly lonely, isolated even. Mikaela hadn't been returning any of his calls recently and she was a big reason as to why he wanted to return home in the first place. He wanted to find out what was going on.

Sam blinked before slipping out his bedroom door and down the stairs. The kitchen was where he went when he was younger after a nightmare and its cheery décor had always made him feel better. Perhaps it would help him clear his head.

…

When he finally reached the kitchen, Sam automatically flipped on the light switch and searched out the glass cupboard, withdrawing a cup the moment he found the door. It was an old ritual that he'd done forever, especially on stormy nights.

Not even thinking about his actions, Sam just filled his cup with ice and went for the water faucet. Out of habit he looked out into the dark back yard.

The reflection that looked back had two glowing optics.

Sam reared back, dropping his glass and knocking into the center island. The jarring had him tearing his gaze away and rubbing his bruised hip. When he looked back, it was gone.

The teen tried to collect his thoughts, his hearts still fluttering like a panicked bird in his chest while blood pounded in his ears. It wasn't a Decepticon nor could it have been Bee.

The optics were yellow and green.

'_Just like RazorWind's.'_ Sam ruthlessly squashed the thought the moment darted through his conscious. He was not going to think about some senile old mech that was clearly damaged beyond repair.

He scrambled into the living room, partially in fear but also to avoid looking out through the kitchen window once more, just in case. He hadn't noticed where he'd been scurrying away to until he bumped into something cold and hard. Sam jumped away startled before getting a good look at the offending thing that jab into his back.

What he saw gave him pause.

It was his mother's 'miracle box', whatever that meant. It had various odds and ends of his first year as an infant, complete with the mandatory naked baby pictures and booties.

His fingers brushed the ugly turquoise and silver bracelet that his mother had kept around for some reason…along with some doctor's reports? As he touched the empty center setting, Sam felt the leftover energy spark against his nerve endings.

The teen dropped the box. In doing so he also spilled its contents all over the living room floor.

Sam just stared at the mess for a long moment and let out a long sigh, closing his eyes in a tired gesture. The college student flopped on the couch, suddenly feeling drained of all energy and willpower. He was tired of being scared.

Tired of being tired. Tired of being fatigued. Tired of doubting. Just tired of it all. He just wanted to be normal. A normal college student who had an awesome girlfriend and all the experience that went with that. Not some alien liaison or enemy target or even some…ancient mech.

Sam turned over on his side, pulling a blanket over him. Perhaps he just needed to sleep. He didn't notice a soft click in his mind, or the moment he completely relaxed into his bedding. Nor that his skin began glowing softly and ancient symbols began silently drifting over it.

The teen murmured lightly before completely drifting off once more as he gently grasped the empty setting, _"One life for another. Brother for Brother. This is our way. Always."_

* * *

_::Twins Part II: To Be Continued::_

* * *

A/N: On an odd note; the Dragoon Squadrons were modeled after the Nisei battalions in WWII. What happened to them, even though they held the highest honors as a regiment, was similar to what happened to the Dragoons. They were considered expendable.

…

For those confused this is an AU of the Movie-verse. An AU of an AU.

I had intended to post the second part as a separate story, but after weighing a few priorities, I figured to just keep it as one whole.

LJ 6/13/10, 7/19/10


	9. Part II: Through Grace

**One Half**

By

LigerJager

…

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 3: Through Grace

* * *

Optimus stared out at the cool oceans beyond the beaches of Diego Garcia. He had been all but silent for the past week or so. His processor worked into overdrive.

All those long vorns and he had not a clue. Not an inkling of what was going on right under his optics. Remorse had flooded his being when he was finally able to think over the partial memories RazorWind had sent him. The folder was huge, but by no means complete.

The last Prime hadn't missed the particular files that pertained to their knowledge missing or of when one of them had gone into a full-fledged berserker mode. He did, though, see the aftermath.

It was terrifying.

He remembered a different and place. How much the youthful dragoon twins had changed. When the Fifth Battalion officers had forced their way through to him, to propose that Pit damned alliance so long ago, the two had been relatively innocent.

An unwanted image of their last confrontation forced its way forward. Their optics were hard and lined with unshed grief. Both had held themselves defensively, as thought the world would attack them at any time and destroy them. And now they were gone.

So much had been lost.

Sideswipe quietly approached his leader and stood at attention.

He could tell Optimus had had more than enough to preoccupy his mind. Just as he knew he had as well. The corvette nearly jumped when his commander spoke to him without breaking his gaze from the ocean.

"Is everything arranged?" the voice was spoken so softly that the young saboteur might not have caught it.

"Yes, sir." The Prime straightened to his full height, towering over the silver twin.

"Then let's bring a hero home."

…

Ratchet tinkered through his emergency med-bay. It was just barely big enough. He wasn't sure of it would hold the deceased captain or not.

The medic remembered that squadron well. Even he, a rather impervious minded mech, was in awe when he saw the Dragoons for the first time in their bipedal modes. They had walked right up to Optimus and stood toe-to-toe with him easily (all of them), as equals, and offered their alliance.

A small smile found its way onto his faceplates. He remembered the two slightly gawky, youthful mechs in the delegation. The flanked either side of their commander. Both held their helms high and met gazes squarely with confidence. They had seemed somewhat out of place with the clearly elder, experienced, battle hardened crew that surrounded them. But it was their eyes that spoke a different story. Theirs were alight with a fire missing in many Autobots and deepened with understanding and wisdom.

And then the imposing figure of their Flight Commander, WildWing, stepped forward. The Dragoon was a full two heads taller that Optimus and almost twice and wide, one of the largest amongst them. Grimlock and Ultramagnus both had become uncharacteristically competitive with the giant mech. That said, they all looked Optimus in the eyes, even the twins, with ease. And the Prime was hardly small himself.

Ratchet slowly shut his optics as images of the Firstborn fluttered through his processor, unbidden.

They, without prompting and in the Autobots time of need, gave the Praxians the time they needed to train, recruit and rebuild their forces. They even looked over the younglings, something many mechs and femme were loathe to do. It was beneath their pride and egos to demean themselves for such a job.

And yet, there they were. Some of the most hardened and jaded warriors he'd ever met were _playing_ with the little bots barely the size of their palms.

The thought turned the medic's processors towards the inevitable. His blue optics strayed towards the preservation tank where Jazz was held.

Soon he would be wading through unknown territory for him. No mech had ever survived such a procedure back on Cybertron. The parts used had either refused to be melded to another (which was odd in itself) or deactivated the mech and exploded, taking everything out within and ten kilometer radius. It was devastating.

Now though, he had the knowledge and understanding.

And he was frightened. The medic leaned against his makeshift operating table, hands shaking as he braced himself against the cool surface of the flat metal.

He had repaired many Cybertronians…and lost many more. There were many things that could go wrong with the entire procedure.

But if it worked…they would have Jazz back.

* * *

_::Twins Part II: To Be Continued::_

* * *

A/N: Now as to why the Dragoons didn't, seemingly, put up much of a fuss when they were being treated lower than dirt was because storming into the command center wouldn't have done them any good. In fact it would have been used as an excuse to shoot them.

Hence why the Dragoons were considered legendary, they did as they pleased and took matters into their own hands because of that treatment. They were considered uncontrollable.

It wasn't until the very end that RazorWind (at BlazeBite's urging) even considered working with Optimus. He partially held the Prime responsible for not doing anything to save his people.

As for the Autobot Leader's ignorance, everyone was always on their best behavior when he was around so of course he thought everything was fine. He had an entire planetary war to run so one battalion's mistreatment would have been taken as an argument or something relatively minor.

Which was why the other half of the file was a rather large, disillusioning shock to the Prime.

LJ 7/27/10


	10. Part II: Mercy and Forebearance

**One Half**

By

LigerJager

…

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 4: Of Mercy and Forbearance

* * *

"Sam?"

The teenager's eyes fluttered under their lids.

"Sammy?" Judy's voice became much more insistent. It was then she started to shake his shoulder, gently.

"What?" Sam cracked his eyes open, his voice was slurred with sleep. His mother's concerned face steadily came into focus.

"What are you doing on the couch?"

His mind jolted enough to register the faint kitchen light and his mother's gentle

"What happened here?"

"I knocked it over last night." He grumbled, "sorry."

"Next time, be more careful." His mother gently admonished. The auburn haired woman knelt down to clean up the mess, after all she liked a neat and tidy house. Sam rolled off the couch, dropping the old bracelet in the process, and knelt by her, his mind more or less awake with the last vestiges of lethargy still clinging to his conscious.

"Let me help you." Judy waived him off.

Undeterred by his mother's dismissal, Sam snatched up some of the mess and began stacking it, not really caring about the order. He stopped when his eyes zeroing in on a few papers. They looked like they were some sort of tests.

"What does this mean?" he picked up one particular paper and held it towards Judy.

"What?" Sam caught the slight pause before his mother's seemingly clueless question. His frown deepened.

"This." He said, waving the paper in her direction. Judy's eyes briefly flitted towards the words. It was the results of her doctor's final tests on her ovaries. She hadn't wanted Sam to see it.

"It's nothing to worry about." She said a little too quickly, "why the interest now?"

"Because of this." He held the paper out for her to read, "and I never saw this box before."

"Funny," she pondered, "it's been there for years…" She trailed off. Sam, used to her flighty evasions, just raised an eyebrow. His mom never really took confrontation well about anything that was sensitive to her, she always avoided any course of action.

"Nice try, mom, but that doesn't get you off the hook." He gave her a stern look.

His mother hesitated.

"Sammy, you were supposed to be stillborn."

Sam blinked, his disbelieving thoughts spoke before he realized what he was saying, _"What?"_

"I was…am…infertile, unable to conceive…or carry to term."

Come again? The eighteen year-old just stared at his mother. The stack of paper he'd been gathering slid out of his lax grip and fluttered to the floor.

"Then how…?"

"How are you alive?" she finished statement.

He nodded.

"A miracle." She smiled up at him, "you are my miracle. I can't explain it any other way." Her eyes traveled over the mess before they landed upon the semi-precious jewelry.

She picked up the old bracelet and held with infinite care. A small smile adorned the auburn haired woman's lips. She held the silver and turquoise piece up to the dim light for Sam to see.

"Your father bought this for me the day I told him I was pregnant with you." Her smile became serene, "it had the prettiest stone in it. It's gone now, but I decided to keep it as a reminder, a good one, that miracles can happen."

Judy seemed to drift off into her thoughts for a moment before resuming cleaning up the box.

The teen's eyes, however, were locked on the empty setting. It was that spot that attracted his attention in the first place, the very shell where he could sense the faint traces of ancient, Ixonian energy.

"_When we fought Megatron, your body was destroyed. He tore you apart. Joint by joint. Wire for wire. Circuit by circuit. The only part of you I could save was your spark core. I compacted it into a small stone size…"_

Judy had missed how pasty white Sam went when he had turned to stare out the dark, early morning window. Sam froze for a moment before he started shaking ever so slightly on the couch.

His eyes glowed slightly green in his reflection.

* * *

_::Twins Part II: To Be Continued::_

* * *

A/N: Still alive. Just not…inspired…at the moment.

LJ 9/17/10, 9/20/10


	11. Part II: Forgiveness

**One Half**

By

LigerJager

…

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 5: Forgiveness

* * *

Ratchet stared in awe as he watched the body of the Dragoon Captain slowly inch its way into his med bay. The trailer the mech was secured to was being painstakingly directed into the hanger. It had been a long time since any of the Autobots had seen a dragon mech and he had forgotten just how titanic they could be and memories had not done RazorWind justice. They never did. The mech was even bigger than he remembered.

Granted he hadn't seen the Dragoon since before Battle of Tyger Pax, however he was sure the dragon hadn't been _that_ big. In fact, he looked like he'd grown…which should have been impossible because it was well known that growth only occurred in organics. At least, that was what the Praxian database had concurred. Ratchet's optics widened slightly as he caught the thought.

Praxian.

He knew Praxian: Autobot, Decepticon, Neutral, Aerial, and Seeker alike, but that was just it. They were none of those. The Dragoons weren't Praxian, they were something else entirely.

They were both, organic…and mechanical? Was that the difference that made wielding their parts together so impossible?

And perhaps that was why RazorWind seemed taller?

Ratchet visibly shook his head. He'd have to ponder the thoughts for later. His thoughts became more taciturn, falling back into his normal mode. At the moment he had to concentrate on the large carcass and make sure the idiot driver delivering the captain wasn't going to ruin his med bay. Though, as the chartreuse medic observed the sheer size of the dragon's hulk, he definitely would have to make note of any changes (aside from the obvious damage) to better calculate which parts would best serve Jazz.

The medic tilted his head slightly and began running internal data file searches on his knowledge of Dragoons of the past. Judging from what he remembered of the Firstborn's bipedal transformation and a quick estimation of their final height, he'd say the Black Captain was about a half a head taller than Optimus. And though that might not have seemed like much, it made all the difference. Especially if the plating sizes had changed or certain parts were moved, which it seemed they were.

A crash forced the medical officer to return his attention to his med bay.

Instantly.

"What the FRAG do you Pit-Bound_ IDIOTS_ think you're **doing**?"

…

Prime had been keeping a close eye on his troops, specifically his Saboteur and Chief Medical Officer. Both had been uncharacteristically quiet and he couldn't get a read off of them, which was worrying the Autobot Commander more than he'd like to admit.

That said Optimus couldn't help the light grin that surfaced over his faceplates when he heard Ratchet's swearing from the makeshift medical bay's operation room, nor the relief that flooded his being. It there was one fact of life that he could always count on it was the Medic's wrath on those who dared harm his medical facilities.

Many woes befell the cocky and just plain stupid who tested the cranky bot's limits. Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker if he was there, had many anecdotes of their forays into that realm…and none of them pretty.

The Auto leader's optics meandered back towards the hanger where the operation was to take place. He hoped, for all their sakes, that everything would turn out fine. Because if not…

He'd be short of a medic and the rest of their hope.

…..

Ratchet surveyed his domain and slowly took a large breath before releasing it. He didn't need it, naturally, but going through the motions in fact calmed him. A state of mind he needed, badly.

The chartreuse mech picked up a wrench and activated one of his many scanners. The medical files of the Dragoon Mechs were at the ready in his processor. To his right lay the hulking form of the deceased RazorWind and to his left, on the operating table, lay the broken body of Jazz.

Straightening his back, and cricking his neck joints, the Chief Medical Officer of the Command Team began the most important operation of his long live life.

…

It had been a long week, for everyone. NEST was on edge because their Autobot backup refused to leave the island, and the mechs themselves were anxiously waiting for Ratchet to emerge from the med bay.

Every member, from the original contact team to the newest arrivals, waited with anxious anticipation for the hanger doors to open…Which he was doing right then.

All the mech straightened up immediately at the sight of the taciturn Autobot. It took every ounce of each Praxian's willpower to not jump Ratchet as he slowly slid the doors open.

Of course Optimus beat them all to the punch.

"Status Report."

The Medic looked up at his leader tiredly.

"Operation Complete. Status: Successful." He slumped lightly, his fatigue obvious, "I thought you'd like to be there for his activation."

Without even waiting for the command, the medic turned and slipped right back into the hanger. The first contact team, at Prime's bidding, were the only ones to follow.

Before them lay the gutted form of the once proud Dragoon Commander, Optimus turned his head away at the sight. It wasn't a fitting end for such a valiant mech, but it was his wish.

However their optics trailed to the now complete form of the once silver mech. The Prime could barely make out where the Praxian work ended and the Dragoon parts began. Ratchet had really outdone himself this time.

The medic, with the human equivalent of bag sunder his optics, stifled a yawn. He needed to get this over with and head into a much needed recharge. Glancing at his commanding officer, the mech received the nod.

So he reached over and jolted the prone form of their Black Ops Commander. For a long moment there was nothing but silence. Then they heard it.

A click, followed by the sound of a function booting up in much the same way Earth's computer did.

The command team waited with baited breath as the optics flickered on and off. Slowly, like a long term coma patient coming out of a deep sleep, the silver mech's processes turned on, one by one. As each mechanism powered up, so too did the anticipation rise.

Finally the optics glowed a steady, bright blue behind the shielding visor. The saboteur shifted slightly before turning his helm to regard the medic.

"Where am I?"

* * *

_::Twins Part II: To Be Continued::_

* * *

A/N: Ratchet is all kinds of fun to write. Had no idea he'd agree with me so. Hmm…

LJ 9/23/10


	12. Part II: The Better Half

**One Half**

By

LigerJager

…

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 6: The Better Half

* * *

The last week or so had been…rough. It was the only word that seemed to fit.

After his mother's revelations and the all-too-clear (and unwanted epiphany of) understanding of all the allusions RazorWind had made during their first (and last) meeting, Sam felt distinctly cut loose…adrift. Everything he'd ever thought he knew about himself, including his sense of humanity, was thrown into turmoil and he couldn't really find an anchor point to keep him from being tossed into uncertainty.

It was as though he suddenly couldn't decide whether he'd entered the Twilight Zone or was in the middle of a nightmare. And he felt so, so lost.

He supposed that there were worse things in the world (like watching Trent make-out with some chick or witnessing Miles eat came to mind), but that hardly made him feel better. And he wanted to confide in someone, but who?

His parents were happily ignorant and he wanted it to stay that way, especially after Giza. And Bee had been called into NEST for something or another. Sam couldn't help but feel guiltily grateful. He wanted to be alone and with the yellow Autobot hovering that wasn't truly possible. He wasn't quite ready to speak with Bee yet about their experience in the Sierra Nevada.

So it was that the teenager found himself wandering through the shops downtown, lost in his thoughts. The college freshman meandered down the side walk, not really caring where his feet were taking him. He was so distracted that he hardly noticed when he stopped and stared through the window of a toy shop where the window display had a special show for all Star Wars and Star Trek memorabilia, complete with posters and little figurines. His gaze drifted to one particular one of outer space and stopped. And everything else seemed to just disappear.

Fatigue seemingly came over him and Sam closed his eyes…and dreamed.

…

He was back on Cybertron. In the high reaches once more.

The dragon mech looked out into the Solla constellation from the peak of Mount Xillos. The brightly dancing colors of the spatial clouds lit the sky, something akin to the Aurora Borealis on Earth. It was his favorite place, much like the Lookout was back home.

His view of the heavens was left unobstructed and left him with a sense of peace and serenity.

"I see you've come back here." A deep chuckle rumbled behind him. The brightly colored dragoon whirled around, obviously expecting an attack. His optics widened immensely as he caught sight of the interloper.

RazorWind grinned back, his slightly enlarged canines flashed in the starry light. Sam just stared, wide-eyed for a long moment before he yelled.

"How are you here?"

"With you, you mean?"

"No, here. In my mind." Sam flayed (or tried to) before he paused, "That's it, I'm hallucinating! I finally lost it! I've gone bonkers-" Good natured chuckling cut his rant off, forcing the boy's eyes back towards his supposedly _dead_ twin's amused features.

"Well…considering it's not really a dream at the moment (and you are spacing out at the moment), I'd say it's very possible."

"You're dead! I saw you die with my own eyes!"

"So I am." The nonchalant reply threw Sam for a loop. _What?_

"What?"

"We're twins. I should think that would be enough of a hint." RazorWind just looked over at the confused dragon seeker and grinned widely, "No worries, you'll understand when your memories return."

Sam gave the black mech a dubious look, "you keep saying that as if it's a sure thing."

The deceased captain just shrugged, not feeling inclined in the least to enlighten his twin. If BlazeBite was as oblivious to his own changes as he had been growing up (except when he fell over his own feet as a little mechling), then it was a matter of patience. Like he'd said when they'd met, organics worked differently than mechs. Just as Ixonian Science was different from Cybertonian Science, however that one fact alone would make all the difference in the world.

…Because Ixonian Science _never_ failed.

"Did you know that the name Dragoon refers to the cavalry here? Seems appropriate don't you?" The non-sequitur threw Sam for a loop.

"Er, no. I didn't know that…"

The elder brother continued on as if he didn't hear the stuttered reply, "it seems no matter where you are, there will always be someone, some unit, that will come in to save the day."

He then fixed the red and yellow mech with a mischievous look, "you always did want to be a hero."

Almost as quickly the look was gone replaced by a solemn gaze. Sam shuffled nervously at the disquieting and very intent look he was receiving. It almost as if the other mech could see through his soul, literally.

"You are as you should be." Sam's bewilderment grew. He just didn't know what to think anymore.

"Eh?" at the obvious confusion the black captain almost sighed. Talking to his brother like this was rapidly becoming tedious. He just wished he was still in physical form so that he could 'help' speed things along. As it was he was stuck for the time being.

RazorWind projected a form of what his Hologram would have looked like. Sam just stared.

The mech motioned towards his organic body image. His _teenage_ body. Somehow Sam _knew_ he wasn't a human at the moment… "This is how old you are in our terms. Unlike the Autobots whom just upgrade after certain periods and become fully operational, we Dragoons slowly develop and upgrade over long periods of time, as was our design."

Sam looked back at his solemn almost mirror image. Twins they might have been, but identical, they were not. RazorWind's hologram was a definitely more solemn, he had hazel eyes as opposed to Sam's own brown ones, and dark auburn, almost black hair. It was cut short, just shy of a buzz. And, this last observation made Sam glower, Raz was slightly taller and more muscular.

As he gazed at the other teen a thought struck him. He was almost afraid to ask.

"In…human…terms, how old were we?"

"When the war started?"

"Yeah."

The Hologram shrugged. "Hmm, Oh, I'd say about the equivalent of an eleven or twelve year old. We were just beginning our first major growth spurts when the Philian Hold was lost to us." He seemed to get lost in thought, "and about fifteen or sixteen years when we left in search of the Allspark." Sam gaped at the other mech. Seeing the expression, the Dragoon Captain misunderstood and tried to clarify what he meant.

"Well, physically speaking," RazorWind amended, "Mentally, we played with the best of them."

"Puberty takes_ that_ long?" Sam didn't notice a hologram of himself jump into existence. It mirrored his reactions to a tee.

"Indeed." the elder twin replied gravely, "Actually longer. It takes almost twice as long as the 'year' before for us to 'age'. So the 'gaps' in between birthdays, or rather age difference, grows exponentially." He delivered it so factually that Sam almost just accepted it.

Almost. RazorWind gave the rapidly paling mech an amused glance.

"Congratulations, you'll be a teenager for a long time to come."

Sam's processor stalled right then.

"It sucks being a Dragoon."

"Well…yes, yes it does." The two paused for a moment, shared looks of equal pained sympathy, before they burst out laughing.

RazorWind gave Sam another mischievous grin (the college freshman was beginning to hate that look), "But I don't have to worry about that anymore."

"Did I tell you how much I hate you right now?" The black dragon-mech's grin widened, "And what's this about a _long_ teen-hood?"

"You don't need to know."

"Hey! Yes I do!" Sam's outraged yell echoed over the cliff side. He only received a raised eyebrow in return for his troubles.

"You know you don't. After all when you finish integrating, you'll understand without me having to hold your hand. And besides, when you begin to manifest, you'll probably have some interesting upgrades no doubt." The teen knew when to just let be. He wasn't going to get anywhere with the dragon mech anyways.

"I'm human," Sam replied flatly, "I don't _'manifest'_ or _'integrate'_ anything."

His mirror image favored him with an enigmatic smile, "Yes you still are human, that doesn't mean you can't have a few…aces…up your sleeve. And you are almost completely assimilated anyways. Now, you just need a trigger point."

"What?" Oh, he _knew_ he didn't like the sound of that. The bigger dragon, on the other hand, just huffed, his hologram disappeared in a flash.

"I liked it better when I didn't have to explain everything to you."

Sam glared, his frustration mounting considerably. "You're the one saying that my memory will return when you know fully well that it might not!"

The darker twin studied Sam for a long moment, "Nah, you're remembering. Like I said, you just need a trigger point."

"Not more trauma thank you very much!"

"Knowing you, and I do, that won't be possible." Sam glowered.

Both human images faded as larger, mechanical took their places. Sam for the first time became aware that he wasn't human. His optics slowly widened to immeasurable proportions as the reality of his current situation sank in.

As he did when they were alone or in the high reaches back on Cybertron, RazorWind chuckled. He found that he'd been doing more of that within the short time he'd awakened than he'd done the entire war back in Cybertron's known solar system.

At the thought of their home the amusement faded and was replaced by darker thoughts. Most of which revolved around the Allspark search and their end.

Megatron had picked them off _easily_. Not that their battle was easy by any stretch, but he divided them and was easily able to take them out. As if sensing the impending mood change, the red and yellow mech (who finally seemed to stop panicking over his appearance) drew his attention once more.

'_No matter what, they can't bring us down.'_

RazorWind's answering grin (who exactly _**'they'**_ were didn't really matter) to his twin's determined growl was all they needed before both dove off the cliff and soared into the heavens.

…

Sam turned away from the window, highly disconcerted, and shook his head and blinked a few times. His eyes watered a bit as they'd been a tad dry after the tie spent looking at the posters. He hadn't zoned out since, well, the Cube knowledge decided to drive him crazy

A grumble cut through Sam's thoughts. The teen wryly looked down at his complaining stomach. It had been a long time since he actually heard his gut. And luckily there was a small convenience store just a block over that had the best snacks.

Glad to not have anything else on his mind (putting aside anything Cybertronian), Sam practically skipped over to his and Mile's usual hang out (where else in little Tranquility would teens find cheap snacks?). Perhaps his best friend would be there, it had been a while since they'd hung out anyway.

Just as he passed an abandoned car lot, something cold crawled up his spine forcing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. Sam froze. Internally he struggled to decide whether or not to look.

The heebie-jeebies won out.

Sam turned expecting…he didn't know what. His eyes widened in fright as he finally locked on the source of his discomfort. His mind snarled one word that slipped through his lips before he took off running.

"Barricade."

The Decepticon roared to life as it chased after him.

…

The young Witwicky slid across the cement, his tennis shoes squeaked in protest, as he barreled through an alley and made a sharp turn. Behind him, he could hear Barricade's rampaging.

For a moment the world seemed to stop in deafening silence.

In his mind, some loud audibly clicked and for a moment there was a deafening silence. Then something turned like gears of a large mechanical lock. It would turn click, like a door lock being opened, and then begin rotating a different direction before repeating the process.

The teen blinked and for a moment he thought he saw a gigantic door before his vision returned to the ally. He would have stayed there to try to figure out what he saw however a large crash rumbled through the air behind him and reminded him of why he was there in the first place.

Sam dashed through several abandoned side streets and rundown houses. He was unaware that his eyes had begun to glow, flickering between a soft blue and a harsh green. He made a hard turn and found himself in a junkyard, not that he cared.

Something loud finally clicked, causing Sam to freeze, his eyes widened and forced himself to skid to a stop lest he run straight into a pile of rusty metal. For one instant he almost envisioned himself in front of a great vault with many gears and locks that had been opened before he blinked and really did find himself there. The college freshman gaped at the titanic door.

Off to either side, and most of the front surface, he could see an hopelessly complicated locking system with at least a hundred or so different visible locks, and gears, most of which were undone. Save for one.

Around the one last lock and he noticed that the gears were turning slowly opening the final lock.

When it opened, it was with a deafening finality. The echo swamped him, ringing through his being. And for a moment Sam just stared…and then he moved.

He grabbed the handle and pulled.

Blue-ish green light poured through the door gap. The teen, feeling the urgency gave a mighty heave, yanking the vault open. Panting from the exertion, the teen jogged to the opening, expecting to see whatever it was that made the slightly glowing light. As he looked, a feeling of confusion, and no small amount of disappointment, began to overwhelm him.

At first he saw nothing, just an empty vault that had a pitch black space.

He stared stupidly into it for a moment. Before the entire vault began to shake violently and an overwhelming roar grew as light erupted from the far end of the darkness.

Sam was caught in the full, head on blast and the light shot out of the vault like a volcanic eruption. He snapped his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable collision. Nothing happened.

He felt the world shift and only blinked when he took a peek. And, for the barest of moments, felt extremely disoriented. When the world stopped turning, he was able to make out where he was.

The teen was back in the empty junkyard lot…right where he'd skidded to an abrupt stop.

Behind him, the murderous decepticon prowled slowly towards him like a large cat in the midst of hunting. And like the large, dangerous predator, the mech tensed before he pounced, his vicious claws and cruel tools extended and poised to strike.

The police cruiser didn't notice the mortal's eyes begin to slightly glow and flicker between blue and green as if they seemed to war with each other for dominance, before one won and locked it's sequence in. What he did notice, however, was the haze that exploded around the boy, like a heat wave.

And when their eyes finally met for the first time since the beginning of the chase, surprised red optics warred with the defiant, brilliant green glowing eyes of the teen.

Something inside Sam roared.

…

You can't bring me down, you can't bring me down

Back in the day when nothing really mattered to me  
I only saw with my eyes what they wanted to see  
And everything around me seemed to never change  
Looking for an easy way out, someone to blame  
Why does it work this way, still today?  
You wanna take somebody down along the way?  
But I won't let that one be me, 'cause I don't want the drama it brings  
See, today isn't "back in the day" anymore  
I know a little more than I did before  
So, don't forget before you try bringing me down  
What goes around always comes back around

You can't bring me down  
Do you hear what I'm trying to say?  
You can't bring me down  
I'll never turn the other way  
You can't bring me down  
What is it you're trying to say?  
You can't bring me down  
It's not like I'm running away

So, you think you can see inside my mind?  
You probably could if you just took a little time  
I know exactly what you're trying to say  
But sitting in the stands ain't the same as playing the game  
So, I can't comprehend in my mind  
Just why we can't leave it all behind  
So, come on and stand beside, and hold the line  
'Cause tonight is the night we cry

Oh

Why can't we feel what it takes for us to be real?  
Why can't we see what it takes for us to believe?  
Why do we say all of these things that bring us down?

You can't bring me down

**-Bring Me Down by Pillar-**

* * *

_::Twins Part II: Complete::_

* * *

A/N: I want to be **very** clear about this point: The Findali _loved _their Dragoons. Aside from the Allspark, they were considered the height of their accomplishments. The Cybertronians were meant to carry on in their stead with the Dragoons as their protectors, guardians and guides, in much the same was the Dragons were to the Findali themselves, a symbiotic relationship. Obviously it didn't turn out that way. That favoritism also marks the difference in the Mechs and Bio-Mechs appearances.

Whereas the Cybertronians were purely functional in design and build, the Findali were artistic, and beautiful, about their beloved protector's forms and designs.

…

To give you a (relative) visual of both of the brother's designs; I'd say have a look at the Aeon Summons from Final Fantasy X & VII (Crisis Core). The Aeon Bahamut body design from _Final Fantasy X_ would be the closest I could find for RazorWind, as well as color scheme (I also liked that version of Bahamut the best). Like I said, the Captain was a literal Tank (and he wasn't completely full grown yet).

As for BlazeBite, his design would be a cross between the build and function of Bahamut or Bahamut Fury Summon from _Final Fantasy VII: Crisis Core_ and the artistry of Aeon Bahamut of _Final Fantasy X_. Color wise, though, he took after the Aeon Valefor from _Final Fantasy X._

They both would generally have the same Mega Flare _**like**_ attacks but whereas RazorWind would be able to hold his ground from the backlash with little to no side effects, BlazeBite would be sent flying and probably take some serious damage. And it was a one off attack. After they used it, they were pretty much useless for up to a week after while they recouped their energy.

…

Now what makes these two particularly deadly is their quick change. They can shift in half a nano-second between both forms. It was what made Starscream hate them so bitterly because one moment he'd be taking on the bipedal (and winning) and the next he'd have the serrated claws of the quadrupedal tearing into the underside of his carriage forcing him to retreat.

As to their Bipedal forms, I'd leave that up to you, however because these are mechs and though (in this story) they originate from the same makers, they are complete and polar opposites. The Dragoons are probably about as close to an Organic Cross as the Findali could get, where as the Cybertronians are purely Machine.

I, personally, lean towards some Gundam 00-like designs for Bipedal (with a bit of Dragon and Final Fantasy artistry mixed in), and Zoidian designs for Quadrupedal forms (also with some Final Fantasy thrown in). But, like I said, their design is left up to your imaginations.

LJ 9/23/10, 10/3/10


	13. Part III: Collision Course

**Endless Skies**

By

LigerJager

…

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 1: Collision Course

* * *

Barricade slammed into a brick wall, web-like cracks splayed out in all directions around him. Red dust and fragments showered the Decepticon. The hunter felt all his systems freeze and lock up with the force of the impact. All he could do was try to comprehend what had just happened while in his state of shock, which wasn't very likely. His mind was just as frozen as his body.

After a moment, he felt himself tip forward.

Gravity did its work and pulled him down into a spectacular crash as he body slammed face first into the ground. The wall had a Cybertronian sized dent it before it crumbled away leaving a hole.

Slowly, after a few moments, the Decepticon front runner picked himself up from the ground, his bright red optics locking on the fleshling he'd been chasing. Barricade couldn't help but stare at the boy, his processor unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Sam just glared back, his bright green eyes glowed with an inhuman rage. What he didn't see, but Barricade witnessed, was the slight greenish glow emanating from his body, casting the nearby junk piles into an alien light.

In that moment he looked like some avenging angel. With each second the light grew stronger and threw his body into a silhouette with only his eyes clearly visible as they glowed menacingly, without a visible pupil.

The Decepticon couldn't do more than gape. His body was still locked up.

What neither of them noticed were the faintly glowing symbols that moved almost sentient-ly across his bare skin. What Barricade did notice was Sam's heavy breathing, as though he had just finished doing something strenuous.

And his outstretched hand.

His outstretched glowing hand…

…that had what looked like arcs of electricity jumping from the tips of his fingers to the palms of his hand and back again…

And a rather menacing looking ball of glowing light that was hovering a few centimeters above electric arcs. It hummed lowly in silence that engulfed the otherwise deserted lot. Barricade wasn't sure but he almost thought his audio-sensory array picked up a low menacing growl that was reverberating through the very molecules of the surrounding area.

Dragoon-Souled Human glared down Decepticon Scout.

And in that moment, for just a nano-click, Barricade felt just as small as, of not smaller than the humans he so despised. Because in that same moment, he saw the gaping maw of the one breed of mech he feared even above The Fallen and Unicron itself.

A Dragoon.

The air was still wavered and distorted around the human and for an instant the forerunner thought he saw it. Or rather he thought he saw _him._ One of the few mech he could ever say without shame that he respected and even admired.

BlazeBite.

The un-catch-able lieutenant of the Fifth Dragoon Platoon. And Starscream's sworn rival and enemy. Who was possibly the one mech that the Seeker hated more than Megatron and could make the otherwise intelligent mech lose all thought function and skip right to homicidal rage.

Both he and his brother, young though they had been at the start of the interplanetary war, had survived and thrived over the millions of years of fighting. And they were genuinely feared. Even Megatron, before he went after the Allspark, treated them with a wary respect, something he never did for any other Cybertronian, aside from the fallen Prime.

Just then a click and thrum from his gears broke the Decepticon from his musings. It looked like his stasis lock was finally over and he was no longer defenseless.

The Human didn't even move. Instead his only answer was a slight bracing of his raised arm.

The stand-off would have continued if not for the quick skittering of something smaller and metallic. Sam turned slightly towards the sound, keeping an eye on the recovering Decepticon, and just caught sight of Barricade's little partner.

The scout's eyes widened. He had to stop the small hacker. If not he'd have to deal with the small Cybertronian's creator, not someone he wanted to cross…at all.

But before he could call out Frenzy lunged…and found himself jumping into a humming ball of energy.

He screeched.

* * *

_::Twins Part III: To Be Continued::_

* * *

A/N: Bah. This Fict won't die. It refuses to end. It has, in fact, grown longer just to spite me.

Meh.

Arcs: 2/30 Complete.

LJ 10/9/10, 10/11/10


	14. Part III: Wild Hearts

**Endless Skies**

By

LigerJager

…

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 2: Wild Hearts

* * *

Jazz had no idea of what to make of his situation. It wasn't everyday that a 'bot was offlined and then revived _two years_ after the fact, **especially** since he learned that the Cube was destroyed. Something like that simply wasn't done on Cybertron. And if they had been back on their home planet, he would have been scrapped already.

The normally laid back and relatively unflappable lieutenant was at a loss as to how he should respond. How did one respond to the knowledge that they had been, for all intents and purposes, dead?

And that was without factoring in RazorWind…

…Or the operation that Ratchet had miraculously completed.

Especially since he had witnessed the results, in person, of such attempts before when they were still back on Cybertron. Or even Tyger Pax.

Visor-ed optics stared emptily at the carefully preserved remains of RazorWind. Ratchet had taken care to at least make sure the mech was respectfully secured before he went into recharge.

He had mixed feelings about the repairs. On one hand he didn't even believe he was offlined until Prime himself sent him a fully log of the events in Mission City. And for all his prowess and worldliness, Jazz was horrifyingly fascinated with when the data came to his own gruesome death. The entire scene seemed surreal and yet he couldn't deny that it happened.

For one, his repaired midsection said it all.

And for another, the lieutenant's optics strayed to the elegant head of the once living battle titan, the hulking chassis was tangible proof of the truth. Evidence he was less than thrilled to look at.

He could say that while he didn't like most of the strange seekers. In fact he, like a good many of the officers, had only been as civil to them as well as one could for allies. So he tolerated them.

That said he, and a good many of his associates, did honestly appreciate having them at his back. It was like having an immovable wall of living armor covering his flank.

While he didn't have the enmity most of the elder generation mechs seemed to have, but Jazz didn't know how to act around the dragoons either. Especially since their platoons were difficult at best to work with and downright unpredictable, which made the situations more dangerous than not. And they never listened to orders.

That said, however…

All of the missions they went on were completed…even those suicide missions. They simply didn't fail, even at the (admittedly heavy) cost of their own.

Jazz wasn't a fool and he wasn't blind. He had witnessed all the slaughter and bigotry first hand. He knew what Optimus didn't. And he did the one thing he would forever regret, he hesitated. He hesitated to stop the treatment of the big mechs and he hesitated in bringing it to the Prime's attention, but what he was most ashamed of was that he hesitated because he feared the actions of the High Command. Those old mechs could have made his, and by extension anyone within his acquaintance, life utter hell. Even being as high ranked and as favored as he was wouldn't have been enough to shelter him.

And so he let the treatment continued.

Hopefully, after the next major battle, he could at least to make it up to the Dragoons, or at least one of them. The mech he'd had in mind to start with was one he'd been working closely with over the last ten or so vorns, SideWinder.

And so he waited.

Then came the bloody battle of Tyger Pax and the launching of the Cube into deep space. And it was one in which seven of the last ten Dragoons fell, SideWinder among them. The eighth was found tortured, and later died because none of the Cybertronian medics could or would attend to him, in one of the Decepticon camps on the edge of the battlefield.

Jazz knew, as became abundantly clear after the heavy losses of Tyger Pax, that he'd made a mistake. Especially after he witnessed his partner take a spectacular blast, from the overgrown dinosaur Trypticon no less, that would have literally vaporized his own protoform.

Jazz had watched in surprised shock as those blazing green eyes twisted in agony and flickered in and out as the stubborn dragon held on until the blast was done before crashing to the ground, nothing more than a smoking, lifeless hull. The taciturn dragon mech, whom the saboteur could never figure out, had done that without prompting or order and mystified the silver Autobot.

Why?

He wanted answers.

…Answers that only another Dragoon could give.

After that decisive battle, though, he wasn't sure if there were any left…that was until he saw the twins confronting Optimus at the command post that day. When the last two dragoons petitioned for the mission, and were granted it, he knew he'd lost the opportunity to at least have some of that closure.

He had hoped, after the Allspark was found, that there would be time to correct that mistake, vowed it even. And perhaps to at least know something about his beleaguered allies. The twins had been the best chance for that. They weren't as jaded as their elder counterparts and seemed a bit more open…more willing to share.

And so he, along with the rest of Prime's officers in the know, waited for them.

They never returned.

And now here he was, owing his life twice over to the Dragoons and at a complete loss. Ratchet had made the 'suggestion' for him to take it medical leave and sort himself out. Jazz had been of the mind to ignore the old medic until he was duly informed of all that had happened and what it took to bring him back. That stopped the normally easy going mech cold. Maybe the old rust bucket knew what he was talking about after all.

"Decepticon's detected on the West Coast!" The voice cut through the Lieutenant's thoughts. Time for contemplations of his past allies later, there were enemies to be dealt with now.

"Where!" Captain Lennox practically roared as he skid across the hangar towards the communication's deck, the rest of his NEST team right on his heels. After Egypt their actions were at a minimum and the paperwork was driven to the max.

In other words, the soldiers were antsy and spoiling for some action.

The radar operator looked troubled before his expression blanked. His tone was only that of clipped professionalism.

"Tranquility, California."

* * *

_::Twins Part III: To Be Continued::_

* * *

A/N: Again, the dragoons represent a side of the war that not many know about or wish to face. Like the Nisei of the 442nd and the Tuskegee Airmen, the seeker branch were disregarded and in some instances thrown away. They had many, many casualties, but were unarguably some of the best.

Jazz is like many of us who, while seeing something morally wrong, won't get involved but rather let the situation 'sort itself out' instead of stepping in because of his conviction (even if that meant he would be blasted). And then he realized it was too late. He'll still have mixed feelings about his operation for a long time to come.

Actions speak so much louder than words ever can.

LJ 10/17/10


	15. Part III: Heaven's Wings

**Endless Skies**

By

LigerJager

…

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 3: Heaven's Wings

* * *

Barricade watched in almost horrified fascination as the scene slowly played out before him. Time seemed to warp and stretch in that very moment.

The little hacker was screeching towards the fleshbag while it moved that glowing attack in Frenzy's path. And it was about to obliterate him. The scout knew the smaller Cybertronian couldn't take that kind of attack. His body moved without him.

Barricade's canon charged up and shot a blast.

. . . . . .

Frenzy screeched when he was about to impact the glowing ball. It wasn't just a pretty light show. He could feel the power vibrating through his very core as the low hum became louder with each centimeter.

And he knew, without a doubt, that this was what sent Barricade flying and in a flash of clarity, the cassetticon knew he was about to be offlined. A lazer shot past him and into the whirling ball of light.

His world exploded.

. . . . . .

The shockwave distorted the air as it ripped the area apart and threw them away. The explosion was small for its kind, but the resulting concussive force wasn't.

Barricade felt himself flying as he was thrown through the hole in the wall behind him. His already damaged parts jarred painfully as skid across the cold surface.

Frenzy was wedged in a solid cement wall, not unlike bullet from gun, right next to the gaping hole from Barricade's earlier impact. However, from the way his exposed limbs hung limply, he was out cold.

The Decepticon could barely make out the faint pulsing of his spark chamber. A small blessing if ever there was one because the rest of the little bot was a twisted wreck.

At least he didn't have to deal with Soundwave's wrath.

Barricade immediately scanned the surrounding areas, just in case. He knew it would only be a matter of time before the Auto-scum would arrive with their squishies in tow. He had to make tracks and fast.

Unfortunately he wasn't sure if he could.

The scout, after confirming there were no witnesses and no intruders, began hasty internal repair programs and scans. He needed to know what condition his processes were in so he could plan.

It wasn't like this was the first time he'd been waylaid and without backup. At least with Frenzy in tow, this was less likely to happen, not that it helped at the moment.

Barricade gave a satisfied hum before thoughtfully shutting down his programs. He'd need the extra energy. He had movement, albeit painful but nothing Hook couldn't fix…if he had even rendezvoused with the Decepticon force yet (and that was a _**BIG**_ if). The snotty perfectionist had been called back to Cybertron to see if he could be incorporated into Trypticon.

Who knew how that went?

The main medical crew were stationed on the remains of Cybertron with Shockwave and his forces. Megatron was a certified idiot, in Barricade's humble opinion, for leaving such a crucial force with the walking optic.

Though, it was rumored that he was making his way towards Earth with a good portion of the main forces. Whether he arrived was a different story.

The final scan clicked shut leaving the tainted police cruiser to think. His communications were down though, so he couldn't contact backup or Soundwave.

A thought struck the injured mech. How did this situation affect the war? Should he report this incident?

Of course the real question was: Where was the fleshling?

* * *

_::Twins Part III: To Be Continued::_

* * *

A/N: duh, duh, duh, duuuuuh!

If that isn't enough of a future hint, I dunno what is (nudge, nudge, wink, wink)

So, who's psyched for the third Transformers movie? As much as I appreciate the original animated versions (and sequels), I didn't really like them. So is it any wonder that Bay's 'verse is so fun to play with?

LJ 10/23/10


	16. Part III: Fearless

**Endless Skies**

By

LigerJager

…

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 4: Fearless

* * *

A roar reverberated through the alley. The very ground trembled with the vibrations making the scout think that there was almost an earthquake. Something heavily thudded on the cracked cement outside, ominously prowling towards them.

Even if he was a non-organic, Barricade still felt fear. Well hidden, granted, but it was there. However something far more…potent welled up within his core and began overwhelming his senses.

It was terror, sheer terror.

And the worst part was there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing he could protect himself with. He'd used the last of his reserves to save Frenzy's hide when he fired that blast and he needed the rest to finish at least partial repairs until he could safely put himself into emergency stasis for the remainder of his recuperation. He might have been in similar situations before, but none of them involved one of his deepest fears.

A metallic ped clanged as it fell heavily on the web-cracked cement…and it was right outside the hole in the wall.

Barricade slowly looked up, honest dread flooding his being. Wide-red optics froze.

Yellow and green pupil-less optics glared menacingly back before the scout found himself looking down the beast's great maw.

As it opened.

Light flickered in the back of the throat. Its color was eerily reminiscent of the attack that the fleshbag had somehow wielded. Barricade gulped.

He literally saw his death coming towards him.

The Decepticon scout watched the attack grow, intent on taking it head on, like any battle mech worth their energon. Had anyone been there, they would have likened the scene to a gladiator defying the emperor and facing his own demise head on, without fear.

Police sirens blared down the main street not two blocks from them. The Dragoon's head snapped up and whipped in their direction, alert and listening. His large maw clicked shut at the same moment, halting his attack.

Barricade would forever deny that a sigh of relief escaped his vocalizer. Frenzy twitched but still remained unconscious.

A low snarl tore through the tension. The huge mech returned his laser like attention back to the injured forerunner.

"Pray to Primus that we never meet again, Runner." The low voice rumbled before the mech grunted as he pushed off and bounded away, like a large cat, leaving the injured Decepticon looking like a deer caught in the headlights. With two leaps, the dragon was gone.

Barricade stared in shock after the giant seeker. That name. How had had the _**Dragoon**_ heard of that name? He'd thought it was lost to time.

…Along with his racing crew. The only Cybertronians he had ever trusted. Another thought struck the scout.

And if he knew that, what else did he know?

Just then the alert popped up in the visual sensors letting the mech know that he was now at least thirty percent functional. It would be enough for him.

He rolled on his stomach and pushed up, his strained and dented hydraulics and joint protesting the movement. The cruiser grit his teeth and staggered into his bipedal mode. He was too damage to transform and would have to make due.

He stumbled towards the Hacker and gently, for him, removed the smaller bot. Little bits and pieces of the casseticon's armor clanked on the cement with the movement. Barricade almost sighed before opening up a carrying compartment and storing the small mech away.

If word ever to back to the Decepticons that Barricade was saved by the fleshy's sirens he'd never live it down.

Now, he just had to make sure Soundwave couldn't read his thoughts. The forerunner almost cringed as he looked over his little partner.

That was after he patched the hacker up…somehow.

* * *

_::Twins Part III: To Be Continued::_

* * *

A/N: So, for those fans who thought RotF was _**it**_ for the Bay-verse transformers, then you might be happy to know that July 1, 2011 is the supposed release date for Transformers: The Dark of the Moon.

And guess who's coming to town? The one and only Shockwave! The main villain (in this movie)! Also said to be debuting will be Silverbolt and a slew of newer Autobots (at least three of the Wreckers)…maybe.

I wish that Bluestreak (snipers totally pwn), Mirage (invisible man, err, mech), Prowl (cause strategist are just awesome) or Hound (Hey, what's over there?) were in the line-up... Though, even if they were, I don't think they'd have that big of a role (poor Jolt and Sideswipe were jilted in RotF).

For me, the best part is they are keeping the cast (for the most part). Mikaela Banes will not be back (Megan Fox drama), but most of the characters are there (Sam Witwicky, Seymour Simmons, Chief Robert Epps, Maj. William Lennox, Leo Spitz, Gen. Morshower, and both of the Witwickys)…and the voices for the Cybertronians.

As stupid as this sounds, Bay keeping the cast for the most part sold me (so I look forward to the movie and have expectations). So for those who want to know more, have fun looking it up!

This AU will fit in between the movies (2 & 3)…until DotM comes out, then I get to play.

LJ 10/24/10, 10/25/10


	17. Part III: The Wind's Call

**Endless Skies**

By

LigerJager

…

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 5: The Wind's Call

* * *

Optimus was confused. So were the officers on his command team. As were their NEST allies.

They all were scouring what had once been a junkyard looking for clues. Something had obviously gone down here but what and who were involved were still mysteries.

Even their sensitive scanners couldn't identify anything definitive.

Well, the Prime amended, they wouldn't have been able to anyways with all the static interference. Personally, had Optimus been human, this spot would have had his hair standing on end. Just the energies alone seemed to give off the feeling of a wild, untamed force.

That and aside from the main blast site and the collapsed wall there was nothing else they could find. He'd have to send Prowl later when they returned. His strategist, for whatever reason, was a great detective as well and could pick up what they missed. No doubt Megatron would be at least interested in the energy readings. The Warlord wouldn't care if one of his troops had been lost, not if he could acquire someone stronger.

Or a more destructive weapon…

Optimus shook his head at the thought and took another look at the hole. Obvious something had been through it and they could estimate the approximate size, but color and designation, energon blood and all other telltale signs were absent, which was strange.

That and the line of destruction that led them to this place had a decepticon's signature all over it. The mech was obviously chasing something, possibly human because some of the trail's points went through areas far too small for anyone larger than Bumblebee and possibly Jazz to fit through. And for it to end with, well, nothing was puzzling.

And disappointing.

Now they had to return to base. The Prime looked at the disgruntled features of his fighters and the humans. They needed an outlet, one that wasn't readily available. He just hoped, against hope, that something else would happen. Because of the soldiers (both human and mech) spoiled anymore, they'd become restless and unpredictable.

And that was something he and command knew they'd rather not deal with. Prime sighed and turned back to the first response team.

"Alright. Autobots, let's roll out."

He vaguely heard Captain Lennox echoed a variation of his orders as he transformed. As he waited for the humans, the Autobot patiently ignored the comm. link's chatter (from some very unhappy 'bots). Optimus had a feeling that it was going to be a looong ride home.

. . . . . .

'_Away.' _

That was the only thought that crossed the Dragoon's mind. The wind whistled past him as he gained speed.

'_Must get away.'_

The Ixonian Mech had no idea what the Captain did to his spark core, okay that was a lie because he had a very good idea as to what happened to him. However, he hadn't had time to activate his memory core and look through it yet (so _technically_ he didn't know what RazorWind had done to him).

'_Safety.'_

The dragon dismissed the fact that he'd just 'awoken'. Which was really…more like one of his defensive mechanisms had triggered. The Dragoon knew he wasn't really anything more than a 'shell' (at the moment) and thus incapable of complicated thought beyond what it was programmed to do.

'_Sam.'_

He knew that at this moment his soul had yet to reconcile with him and until that time came he would not be whole. And he knew they would have to talk…eventually.

Also…

Sam wasn't…in the best of moods at the moment. And he, himself, was vastly disoriented and relatively new to this alien world…after a fashion.

It was odd. Being one and the same and yet two completely different individuals. Even as the dragon bounded across the Californian terrain, it could literally feel the differences. The main one being that he wasn't completely material and didn't have too much energy to spare. That he was using at the moment was the natural and turbulent ambience the created by California's great fault. It wasn't much but he had enough.

And that was the least of his concerns.

Right now it needed to get the mech's mortal body and soul (an odd thought) out of Tranquility for a day or two. Sam needed to get away from that place and have time to think over his confrontation with the scout.

Whether or not, the human fully remembered what happened was a different story all together.

Being organic, Sam couldn't yet fully adjust to all that was happening…at least the Dragoon thought he didn't. For all he knew the boy was in shock.

The Dragon blinked out of its thoughts. Its audio and sensory array displayed another form, Cybertronian, on its screen. And it wasn't friendly.

The Dragoon bore down on his shocks and began increasing his speed. He wasn't at full fighting power yet and if he was to meet another enemy, it'd have to be a faceplate-to-faceplate. He burst forward and an impossible speeds, causing ambient energy around him to ripple. And that was something he'd have to do at top speeds. However, the mech just hoped it was his imagination playing tricks because he really didn't want to get into a scrap right now.

He wasn't sure if Sam would survive it.

* * *

_::Twins Part III: To Be Continued::_

* * *

A/N: Now this is where it gets especially tricky. Ugh. Keeping Sam entirely Human (and, well, himself) while have all of this stuff happen around him. It's where most stories fall flat. And like I said earlier, He's human and ONLY human (in body and mortality), his soul though…

Anyways…

Happy Halloween!

LJ 10/31/10


	18. Part III: Unbroken and Unbridled

**Endless Skies**

By

LigerJager

…

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 6: Unbroken and Unbridled

* * *

Being that he'd been in quite a few…strange…situations beforehand and was an old hand at adapting on the fly, Sam was obviously going with the flow as he always did. After all, he was a rather calm and composed individual.

"No, no, no, NO!" The teen yelled at his inhuman body, "You were supposed to stay in my dreams. DREAMS! Not real! You hear me! NOT REAL!"

So, in the customary Witwicky manner and with all the accompanying aplomb and poise he could muster, Sam did the only thing any (somewhat) sane person would do in his situation.

He freaked out.

"Help!" the teen yelled as he banged the inside of whatever it was that was holding him. "Get me out!"

Since, after all, he was accustomed to anything large, alien, robotic…and attacking his person. Sam's struggles increased as he rammed against the wall of his containment.

"Bee!" he cried futilely to his absent guardian. "Bumblebee!"

He pounded the metal with his fists, too distressed to notice the slight ripples that each hit made. Sam vaguely noticed that his container was metallic and spherical in nature. It also had panels that were capped on the top and bottom by a circular piece that appeared to be of the same metal. But what his subconscious picked up on the most was that it was all held together by a glowing reddish seems at looked like liquid glass.

As he panicked, Sam's thoughts took him into non-sequiter directions. The least of which was about his zany, somewhat vapid best friend whom he had yet to see since his return to Tranquility…not that he'd had too much time on his hands with all the chaos that'd been happening. Anyways…

Miles would've thought this…this…_whatever_ was cool.

…But that was _Miles_. Just naming his best friend said it all.

_He _might have thought it was cool at one point however…he had no control. And that was terrifying.

And just like that, Sam felt a vague sense of, well, like he'd just sat in the driver's seat of his car and was just about to grip the steering wheel. It was as if all he had to do was reach out and take over the body he was currently captive in.

In that instant one of the seams split open. Or rather two of the panels opened up like some futuristic technologies and before him was a flat glass like screen. Almost like the observation deck on the Enterprise or that one game he'd been hooked on for a while…

The teen mentally snapped his fingers, Mass Effect. It was like more like that than the Star Trek comparison actually.

Sam ceased his panicked attempts to escape long enough to gape. The screen seemed to pulse. Sam instinctively reached his hand out to touched it. It changed from red to a light green.

And it was warm.

The Freshman placed his whole palm on it. As soon as his palm heel was pressed flat, circuits and veins spread out like a spider's web and began running across the surface.

And at the same time, he felt like he was intangibly and inexplicably gaining some control. He was so enthralled with what he was seeing that he didn't notice the outside landscape zoom past him.

…until a jet rumbled over head. And then swerved and circled once more.

Towards him.

Sam paled, from inside, when he heard telltale screech causing him to rip his hand away from the 'glass'. It wasn't Starscream's, but close.

The slight control he felt he was gaining was ripped from his mental 'grasp' again, not that he minded. Sam's instincts were going haywire once more and he was literally trying to climb up the walls to get out.

The seams glowed red again as the walls seemed to thicken and solidify. The observation screen decreased as the panels slid in, leaving Sam enough to 'view' the outside world.

The great hulk around his little enclosure jarred hard before leaping forward and once again increasing its speed. The teen was thrown against the back wall and crumple to the floor. A slight glance out the red paned glass showed him a scene that utterly terrified him and caused him to freeze.

He looked up in time to see the plane dive.

For him.

Them.

Him.

_Whatever!_

Sam watched in horror as the plane dove closer. A gasp escaped him as his fist clenched tightly.

Especially when he heard the low rumbling of a massive growl grow into a challenging, and defiant, roar. Before whatever held him lurched forward at an even greater pace and he could literally feel the power each bound pounded into the earth. The only way he could describe it was like riding some great beast made of pure power.

…Or a tornado.

Either way Sam was helpless and all he could do was watch. Watch as he was right in the middle of whatever was happening…and could do nothing.

And he was alone.

. . . . . .

The Decepticon Seeker was bored, _bored_, _**bored**_.

He and his trine had just made it to this backwater planet not three solar cycles ago and already they were put on patrol. And what made it worse was that Soundwave would be monitoring them. The uptight aft.

And when the Third-in-Command, who also happens to have Megatron's audio receptor, says do something, that was that. Otherwise it was to Megatron and his overgrown cannon…

…Yeah, a lot of choice there.

So here he was.

Patrolling.

Over yellow-ish dirt.

Sooo exciting.

They were supposed to report Autobot activity and be on the lookout for certain humans (presumably to kidnap). Thrust and Dirge were already given their assignments and away.

And considering this was supposed to be a stealth mission…

The seeker wondered if something had glitched in the old Communications Officer. Because the very idea that _**Thrust**_ of all mechs could be stealthy, enough said.

At least the orders didn't come from Starscream. At the moment none of the Coneheads (as they were dubbed) were in the mood to deal with the arrogant fragger. And their audio receivers needed a rest before the sonic and subsonic screeches of the mech assaulted their delicate sensibilities.

Movement on the Earth's crust below caught his attention and the seeker tilted his head sideways to get a better look. Whatever it was, it was big. And long. And yellow. And re-…

The seeker faltered.

It took a moment before the Decepticon could even out his stabilizers and got a good long look. His epiphany turned quickly from shock to bloodlust.

Ramjet deviated from his path in recognition of his air-commander's (he mentally sneered at the thought) long-time nemesis and archrival. With a sudden drop he dove, screeching his intent.

While his, and subsequently Thrust and Dirge's, rivalry might not have been filled with as much hatred, like the command trine, Ramjet's own trio had had a lot of history with these…things. And like the Decepticon Air commander, Ramjet had his own score to settle with the Dragoon.

Death Valley was an aptly named place for their reunion.

BlazeBite's eyes glowed bright green when the plane's jets rumbled overhead. The dragon recognized that frequency. He looked up and locked onto his longtime enemy. The Dragoon within roared to life again. His great body fully materialized, as he completely took over the processes once more, gently pushing his soul back into his protective cocoon. His defiance echoed across the Californian desert as his legs began pumping his body forward at deadly speeds.

Both dove for the other with one thought in mind.

Death.

…

Got to fight another fight - I gotta run another night  
Get it out - check it out  
I'm on my way and I don't feel right  
I gotta get me back - I can't be beat and that's a fact  
It's OK - I'll find a way  
You ain't gonna take me down no way  
Don't judge a thing until you know what's inside it  
Dont' push me - I'll fight it  
Never gonna give in - never gonna give it up no  
If you can't catch a wave then your'e never gonna ride  
You can't come uninvited  
Never gonna give in - never gonna give up no  
You can't take me I'm free

Why did it all go wrong? - I wanna know what's going on  
And what's this holding me?  
I'm not where I supposed to be  
I gotta fight another fight  
I gotta fight will all my might  
I'm getting out , so check it out  
Ya, you're in my way  
So you better watch out

**- Can't Take Me by Bryan Adams-**

* * *

_::Twins Part III: Complete::_

* * *

A/N: As you can see, Sam is obviously taking his situation very well (*snickers*).

Happy All Saint's Day!

LJ 10/25/10, 11/1/10


	19. Part IV: Whirlwind

**Prelude**

By

LigerJager

…

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 1: Whirlwind

* * *

Sam knew, as he felt his container rock back before it lunged, that he was in for a rough ride. And he was right. The next instant the teen slammed violently into the back of the sphere.

Before he could make heads or tails of what was happening, Sam was thrown back violently into the back plates of his container. He 'oophed' but couldn't comprehend what was happening before he was thrown into another panel with a thud. And then his containment rolled and so did he.

As this continued, Sam was finally able to get some of his mental faculties under control enough (and out of shock) to digest what was happening on the outside. His mind was trying to work it out as his body was jostled, thrown and rolled.

He was fairly sure this was what a pinball felt like.

One thing did stand out in his mind. The Jet. It had been diving for them. And if what he assumed was happening outside was a fight, then all of this would make sense.

Whatever was going on outside was something big. And all Sam could do was brace himself and hope to come out in one piece at the end of it.

He was definitely going to be feeling those bruises in the morning.

Whatever was going on outside, felt like forever. The teen just stopped thinking after another body slam that left him painfully winded. At least whatever he was in was putting up on hell of a fight, he thought bleakly, he hoped.

There was a minute pause. Sam was in too much pain to really notice. He couldn't have scramble to his knees if he tried.

Then the teen was launched violently forward from another jolt into the transparent pane from before. He landed with a painful thump. The 'glass' cracked underneath him.

And then everything just stopped.

Sam opened his eyes. He wasn't sure if the fighting was done, but he did notice the lack of movement from around him. He rolled over slightly with a pained groan. The sound echoed enough that it made him painfully aware that there was an unnatural stillness around him. It was as if time had just froze.

The silence was just plain creepy.

…

The Dragoon gathered himself up mid-stride right before he leapt, serrated claws unsheathed and fangs barred, the force leaving a visible impression in the cracked earth beneath them.

He knew how to take care of this low level. After all he had been victorious in all of their former confrontations across the Cybertronian Empire. Unfortunately his normal methods also involved forcing the Decepticon into full body contact, something he wanted to avoid for the most part. That said, the only real way to take down a Seeker (Cybertronian), was to force them to the ground.

The Seeker Class mech were made for air superiority and dominated the skies. There were mechs that could fly but not anywhere near as well as the air class.

Save for one.

The Dragoons.

The Ixonian mechs weren't as fast or as graceful, but they were aerially superior to all the other Cybertronians and they fit to take on the Sky Lords. And take them they did. The moment the Fifth Platoon stepped into the civil war, the tides turned once more.

And Megatron had lost a good third of his aerial troops within the first vorn, half of his battalion within the second (after which he targeted the Dragoons specifically), and now had only a pitiful few left within his ranks to command.

Even so, none of that mattered. Because, in that moment, the only thought going through both warrior's processors was the death of the other.

The two collided mid air.

Angry screeches reverberated across the desert as the mech tore into each other. Ramjet punching, scratching, and tearing into his opponent (he was too close to use his laser weapons). The dragon was the same, only he had the advantage of serrated claws and a powerful muzzle with teeth like any real predator would.

They leapt, and rolled, and rammed into each other bodily. Each going for the vulnerable lines and exposed seams in the armor with an almost primal fervor. They bodily slammed the other into the ground (which cracked under the force of the impacts) and forced aerial dogfights. Neither was limited to just one field of battle. Bits and pieces of their armor showered the ground.

And then he saw it. The dragon caught the minute opening Ramjet exposed and lunged, brutally tearing into the aerial bot.

The Decepticon screeched out in pain, which reverberated across his comm.

The Dragoon slammed the blue seeker into ground with enough force to create an explosion. The dust rocketed upwards and outwards. When the dust settled only the mangled form of the unconscious mech remained in the center of the small crater.

The dragon landed lightly on the edge and waited, its sense panels opened and alert.

The Seeker crouched low, careful to keep his core covered and Sam, by extension, safe and waited. Its glowing optics pinned on the downed Decepticon menacingly, searching for any sign of movement. None came. The Dragoon erred on the side of caution and waited a moment more. The dead possum ruse was used one too many times in the past for the Seeker's liking.

The dragon was about to leap away to check on Sam. Who knew what condition the boy would be in after this?

A warning blared across its vision was all the time it had to prepare before something impacted the Dragoon's side, sending the yellow and red mech skittering and rolling across the desert surface leaving a long, jagged scar in the soil, a trail of dust and the merciless sun…

* * *

_::Twins Part IV: To Be Continued::_

* * *

A/N: You know it's really sad when your brain has a fart to the point where you can't tell the difference between desert and dessert. This doesn't happen to me too often, but damn it leaves me feeling stupid. Ugh.

…

And here is Sam's first real foray into Draconic battling…yay. (*note sarcasm*)

I will do my best to keep Sam, well, Sam and not some OC wearing his skin. Please note that this is an Au of the Movie-Verse so even when the Third movie comes out, not everything will fit and some things will be changed outright.

…

Anyways the theme for this Arc is Linkin Park's Papercut. Fitting, no?

LJ 11/17/10, 11/18/10


	20. Part IV: Paranoid

**Prelude **

By

LigerJager

…

Transformers © Various Creators & Companies

* * *

Chapter 2: Paranoid

* * *

Dirge had been utterly terrified when he spotted the red and yellow monstrosity looming over (what could only be) Ramjet's crash site. The dark jet had been the closest to his trine leader's location (and thus the first and quickest to respond to his distress call) and was able to catch the tail end of the fight. When his processors truly digested what he saw, the seeker almost gave into his fear and turned tail, with _very_ good reason.

It was a Dragoon.

A _Fraggin' _Pit-Be-Damned _**Dragoon**_, the very frame of mech that were supposed to be extinct, for good (a thought that helped him sleep peacefully during his allotted time).

They were chaos incarnate.

Wild.

Willful.

Unbreakable.

Untamable.

Entirely unpredictable.

…And _**every **_Decepticon's worst nightmare.

Not even the fear of Primus could make him willingly take on one of _**them**_. Ramjet was lucky the last few times he foolishly challenged the monsters, and it was only due to their _whims_ that he lived this long. Dirge had watched as Megatron had stirred the Hornet's nest, so to speak, and brought this plague upon them. He watched as within the first part of the war most of their kind was destroyed, utterly, and through the second, where they struggled for survival on both sides…and up until the present, where Megatron's assessment of the Dragoons' destruction was proven wrong as at least one had survived Tyger Pax.

Dirge hovered indecisively for a moment. His optics trained on his old nemesis.

He…he had been one of the lucky ones, along with his trine mates. They had been considered rookies (and worthless cannon fodder) in the Decepticon ranks and therefore given peon assignments during the initial part of the Civil War. That arrogance is what saved them. Starscream and his trine had just been insanely lucky to escape judgment as long as they had.

The frightened Seeker almost turned tail when he saw his moment. Or at least the opening where he could quickly retrieve his Trine Leader and jet off relatively unscathed. The Dragoon seemed to hesitate for a moment at the edge of the crater and it was in that moment Dirge fired his engines.

He didn't even register when they collided. The only thoughts going through the dark flier's processor were Ramjet and safety. So he slammed into the monstrous (to him) mech, flipped into a quick-change for his bipedal mode, grabbed Ramjet's battered frame, and jetted off without so much as a backward glance.

Dirge didn't question his luck. He didn't question why the red-and-yellow walking arsenal didn't gun him down. And he certainly didn't spare a thought to the serrated claws and formidable rows of teeth.

No, all he thought of, in the heat of the moment and in overwhelming fear, was to get out. Ramjet was too badly beaten so once there was enough distance between them and the living nightmare, he knew he could slow down. Or slow down enough to think of a plausible report to give to Soundwave…Megatron.

Or he'd rather not alert the silver tyrant. Pit! The mech frightened him enough as he was. There was no way of knowing how he'd react if the report of a Dragoon surfaced now of all times.

And he certainly was not going to put himself in the direct line of fire. Not even for Ramjet. Besides he wasn't a masochist. That was more of Starscream's department.

While his mind concentrated elsewhere, Dirge and his wounded leader disappeared into the sky, leaving the Earth to the unrelenting rays of the sun.

Had he looked back, he would have seen not the body of an Ixonian first born but rather nothing but a pile of dust at the end of the Dragoon's long skid mark in the California desert…

* * *

_::Twins Part IV: To Be Continued::_

* * *

A/N: I make no apologies for my silence, however…

Please excuse me while I cuss Apple products and USB drives in general to hell and back. Right now all my data (7 years worth) have been lost due to a malfunction in my USB drive…which I purchased from Apple…

A slight temporary setback, it will take me a while to recover from though.

…_**(On another note)**_…

Ah yes, the all important question: Is Sam still_** human**_? (fleshling, mortal, etc…)

**Answer:** _**Yes**_

Is. Was. Always Will Be. No If, Ands, or Buts. **(End of Discussion)**

(Well, for now anyway. This story _**is**_primarily about HUMAN Sam after all… However, that doesn't mean I won't try to break your brains now does it? (*smirks evilly*))

*_**A Hint: Think on these phrases**_;

"We are mass energy. Everything is energy. EVERYTHING."

"Don't define yourself by your body...it's the infinite being that's connected to everything in the universe."

"One energy field. Our bodies have distracted us from our energy. We are the infinite field of unfolding possibilities. The creative force." 

"Whatever the mind of man can conceive, it can achieve" (W. Clement Stone)

"What this power is, I cannot say. All I know is that it exists." (Alexander Graham Bell) 

(*shrugs*) There are limits to Ixonian science, it's just that this is the beginning of BlazeBite's _**Resurrection**_ and Sam's _**Awakening**__**,**_ so we haven't even begun getting to them. The impossible will seem possible, and break known boundaries. Sam is just learning to tap into this, Ixonian Science made it possible in the first place.

…

LJ 1/16/2011, 4/23/2011, 5/12/2011


End file.
